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T H E 

(^OTumeettkmitt ^UMrterlly 


Devoted to the Literature. History and Picturesque 

Features of 



January, 1895, to December. 189o 


Copyright by The Connecticut Quarterly Company 


Contents of Volume No. I 

January — December, 1895. 


Aaron Burr, (Old Colonial Characters III,) with portrait. " Felix Oldmixon." 374 

Anaesthesia, the History of, Illustrated. James McManus, D. D. S 56 

Ancient and Modern Norwalk. Illustrated. Hon. A. H. Byington 281 

Argonauts of 1849, The " Henry Lee," Illustrated. Frank Lorenzo Hamilton 229 

" Autumn Morning," (Frontispiece I,) from a Painting by D. F. Wentworth 314 

Bits from Great Grand Mother's Journal. Mrs. Ellen Strong Bartlett 265 

Bungalow Bay. (Frontispiece III.) Gardner Arnold Reckard 216 

Bungalow, Ella Wheeler Wilcox and The, Illustrated. Gardner Arnold Reckard 219 

Bushnell Park, (The Hartford Park System I, II.) Illustrated, Sherman W. Adams 67, 173 

Campbell's Falls, View of, (Frontispiece II.) Mrs. Marie H. Kendall 108 

Canton. Illustrated. Hon. William Edgar Simonds , 239 

Center Church Burying Ground, and its Associations, The, Illustrated. Miss Mary K. Talcott 43 

Clinton, once Killingworth. Illustrated. Miss Ellen Brainerd Peck 233 

Colonial Characters, Old, " Felix Oldmixon." 33, 155, 374 

Ella Wheeler Wilcox and the Bungalow. Illustrated. Gardner Arnold Reckard 219 

Farmington, Tunxis which is, Illustrated. Martha Stanley 15 

Frontispieces — "The Twilight Hour." Gardner A. Reckard 2 

View of Campbell's Falls, Norfolk, Conn 108 

" Bungalow Bay," Gardner A. Reckard 218 

"Autumn Morning," D. F. Wentworth 314 

Girl from Massachusetts, The, Miss Pauline Phelps 362 

Granby, Scenes in and around, Illlustrated. Howard W. Benjamin 134 

Green, The New Haven, Ilhistrated. Miss Ellen Strong Bartlett 315 

Hartford Park System, The, (Bushnell Park.) Illustrated. Sherman W. Adams 67, 173 

(The Pope and Pond Parks.) Ilhistrated. Howard W. Benjamin 337 

" Henry Lee " Argonants of 1849, The, Illustrated. Frank Lorerizo Hamilton 229 

Highland Park, Manchester. Illustrated. Marie De Valcherville 298 

Historic Homes, (Hartford.) Illustrated. W T . Farrand Felch 3, 1 23, 288 

History of Anaesthesia, The, Illustrated. James McManus, D. D. S 56 

Hospital Rock, The, (at Farmington, Conn.) Illustrated. James Shepard 50 

In and Around Granby, Scenes, Illustrated. Howard W. Benjamin , 134 

Jonathan Edwards, (Old Colonial Characters I, II.) " Felix Oldmixon," 33> x 55 

Last Century, Yale Boys of the, Miss Ellen D. Larned 355 

Letter from a Repentant Royalist. Miss Ellen D. Larned 399 

Lost Library, Scrope, or the, Frederick Beecher Perkins 74, 195, 303 

Massachusetts, The Girl from, Miss Pauline Phelps 362 

Memories of Meriden, I. Mrs. Frances A. Breckenridge 352 

Modern Norwalk, Ancient and, Illustrated. Hon. A. H. Byington 281 

Musical Melange, (see Departments.) The Editor 

Music and Musicans, Old Time, Prof. N. H. Allen 274 

Native Orchids, Some, Illustrated. Miss C. Antoinette Shepard 345 

New Britain in the Days of the Revolution. Illustrated. Mrs. C. J. Parker 379 

New Haven Green, The, Illustrated. Miss Ellen Stong Bartlett 315 

Norfolk and that Neighborhood. Illustrated. Miss Adele Greene 109 

Norwalk, Ancient and Modern. Illustrated. Hon. A. H. Byington 281 

Notes and Queries, (see Departments.) The Editor 

Old Colonial Characters. " Felix Oldmixon," ^, 155, 374 

Old Time Music and Musicians. Prof. N. H. Allen 274, 368 

Orchids, Some Native, Illustrated. Miss C. Antoinette Shepard 345 



Parks, — Bushnell Park I, II. Illustrated. Sherman W. Adams 67, 173 

The Pope and Pond Parks III. Illustrated. II. W. Benjamin 337 

Highland, Manchester. Illustrated. Marie De Valcherville 298 

Queries, Notes and, (see Departments.) The Editor 

Reginald Roxdale : A Study of Heredity. Franklin E. Denton 39 

Repentant Royalist, A Letter from a, Miss Ellen D. Earned 271 

Revolutionary Boycott, A, Miss Ellen D. Lamed 153 

Round Table, The, (see Departments.) The Editor 

Scenes in and around Granby. Illustrated. Howard W. Benjamin 134 

Scrope, or the Lost Library. Frederic Beecher Perkins 74, 195, 303 

" Ships that Pass in the Night." (Frontispiece III.) G. A. Reckard 218 

Simsbury. Illustrated. Rev. John B. McLean 141 

Small Pox Hospital Rock, The, (Farmington, Conn.) Illustrated. James Shepard 50 

Sociology and Civics, (see Departments,) The Editor 

Some Native Orchids. Illustrated. Miss C. Antoinette Shepard 345 

Suffield : A Sketch. Illustrated. Prof. Martin H. Smith 165 

Talcott Mountain, The Towers of, Illustrated. S. C. Wadsworth 180 

"The Bungalow," Ella Wheeler Wilcox, and, Illustrated. Gardner A. Reckard 219 

The Thomas Hooker of To-day, (Abstract of Sermon.) Rev. Geo. Leon Walker 72 

" The Thomas Hooker of To-day," (Round Table.) Rodney Dennis 84 

Three Dates, The, Franklin E. Denton 160 

Towers of Talcott Mountain, The, Illustrated. S. C. Wadsworth 180 

Treasure Trove, (see Departments.) The Editor 

Trio and Tripod. Illustrated. Geo. H. Carrington 23, 188, 250, 391 

Tunxis, which is Farmington. Illustrated. Mrs. Martha Stanley 15 

" Twilight Hour, The," (Frontispiece I.) G. A. Reckard 2 

View of Campbell's Falls, near Norfolk, Conn. (Frontispiece II.) Mrs. Marie H.Kendall 108 

Visit to Mrs. Sigourney, A, Illustrated. Mrs. Louise J. R. Chapman 47 

" Wide Awakes," The, Illustrated. Major Julius G. Rathbun 327 

Yale Boys of the Last Century, I. Miss Ellen D. Larned 355 

poetry. 686540 

An Autumn Rondeau. Ellen Brainerd Peck 354 

A Retrospect. Florence Carver Davis 172 

Atalanta. Fanny Driscoll 1 79 

A Tribute to our Dead Poets. Louis E. Thayer 270 

A Typical Easter. Illustrated. W. Farrand Felch 163 

Autumn Rondeau, An, Ellen Brainerd Peck 354 

Burning of Simsbury, The, Albert Lewis Thayer 151 

Charter Oak, The, Illustrated. Ellen Brainerd Peck 22 

Connecticut. Louis E. Thayer ^ 46 

Cousin Lucrece, (selected,) Edmund Clarence Stedman 66 

Daughter of the Dawn, A, Will. Farrand Felch 326 

Day Dream, A, Clement C. Calverley 302 

Departure (Double Sonnet.) Robert Clarkson Tongue 361 

Elizabeth, Her Belt. (Anonymous) 71 

Fame. Louis E. Thayer • • 15 2 

First Love. John Rossiter 55 

Gentian. Joseph Archer 3^7 

Harp and a Soul, A, Henry Mason Chadwick 154 

House and Home. (Anonymous.) 13 

In a Fragrant Garden, (in " Clinton.") Ellen Brainerd Peck '. % 236 

I Read of Algol, When, Franklin E. Denton 162 

Midsummer Dream, A, Willard Warner 280 

Monte-Video, (selection.) John Greenleaf Whittier 187 

Nasturtiums. (Anonymous.) 2I 



Nature Poems. John Rossiter 55 

New Haven Elms. Herbert Randall 402 

Norfolk Hills, (in " Norfolk " and that Neighborhood.) Adele Greene 122 

Over the River, (selection.) Illustrated. Rose Terry Cooke 248 

Retrospect, A, Florence Carver Davis 1 7 2 

Rondeau Redouble. John Payne - 287 

Rondeau, An Autumn, Ellen Brainerd Peck 354 

Schubert's Unfinished Symphony. (Musical Melange.) 9 2 

Sea Glow. Rev. Dr. F. C. H. Wendel 228 

Secrets. John Rossiter 55 

Simsbury, The Burning of, Albert Lewis Thayer . • -•• 15 1 

Sonnets. F. E. Denton, 162; Stockton Bates, 194; R. C. Tongue '. 361 

The Old Farm Home, (selected.) - 39° 

The Old Place. Joseph Truman 297 

The One Shall be Taken, the Other Left. Stockton Bates 194 

The Pennyroyal Hymn, (selected.) 279 

The Spinet, (Musical Melange.) Ellen Brainerd Peck 210 

The Spirit of Beauty. Rufus Dawes -. 373 

The Trouter's Paradise. Illustrated. Will. Farrand Felch 264 

To the Bard of the Bungalow. John Payne • 287 

Tribute to our Dead Poets. Louis E. Thayer 270 

Typical Easter, A, Illustrated. W. Farrand Felch 163 

Unafraid, (selection.) Richard E. Burton 49 

Your Native Town, (see Note in " Round Table.") " Josephine Canning." 301 


The Round Table. 83, 204, 307, 403. 

An Adequate State History. — A Contretemps. — A Word of Promise. — A Word of Praise. — 
A Word of Welcome. — A Word of Retrospect. — A Year Old. — A Former State Magazine. — 
" Civic Beings." — Every Man an Antiquity. — Fore- Words. — It Smacks of the Soil. — Love of 
Nature. — Personal Journalism. — The American Type. — The Charm of the Commonplace. — "The 
Thos. Hooker of To-day." — The Growth of Humane Sentiment. — "Uncut Leaves." 

Musical Melange. 88, 210. 

A New Music Hall. — A Public Musical Library. — Chopin and Tennyson. — Individuality in 
Music. — Hartford Musical Culture. — New Worship. — New York Notations. — Rubinstein : Re- 
quiescat. — 'Schubert's Unfinished Symphony. — The Messiah. — The Spinet. 

Treasure Trove. 94, 212, 310. 

Connecticut "Colloures." — Conn. Society of the Sons of the American Revolution. — Conn. 
Society of the Daughters of the American Revolution. — Conn. Society of Colonial Wars. — 
Conn. Society of the War for the Union. — Conn. Historical Society. — Conn. Historical 
Society's Collections. — Ignorance of Ancestry. — Patriotic Societies. — The Half-way Covenant. — 
The Last of the Blue Laws. — The Loyal Legion. — The New Haven Colony Historical Society. 

Sociology and Civics. 99, 207, 313. 

Charity Organization and Medicine. — Conn. Humane Society. — Conn. Society of University 
Extension. — Our School of Sociology. — School of Sociology. — Science of Duty. — The Fabian 
Essays. — The Messiah of the Apostles. — University Extension. 

A Free Lance in the Field of Life and Letters. "Felix Oldmixon." 103. 

Notes and Queries. 98, 214, 313, 408. * 

Abbott, Arms, Baldwin, Backus, Batterson, Benjamin, Birdseye, Blackney, Blakesley, Camp, 
Chapman, Dayton, Dickinson, Edwards, Farrand, Francis, Gardner, Gorham, Graves, Hale, 
Hoadly, Holt, Ledyard, Lincoln, Mason, Mallory, McDonough, Miller, Peck, Porter, Preston, 
Prince, Sanford, Shepard, Swords, Talcott, Tuttle, Walton, Ware, White, Williams, Winthrop. 

Vol. i 

Jan., Feb., Men., 1895 

No. 1 

50c. a Y ;ar Hartford, Conn. 15c. a Copy 

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The Connecticut Quarterly. 


An Illustrated Magazine devoted to Connecticut in its various 
phases of History, Literature, Science and Art. 

During the past year the four hundred pages of the four numbers 
of The Quarterly have contained many articles by eminent writers 
illustrated with over three hundred engravings. 

Concerning the October, November and December number, the 
Hartford Times published the following: — 

The Connecticut Quarterly. 

This excellent magazine, devoted chiefly to Connecticut subjects, and exquisitely 
illustrated, continues to grow in public iavor. The number for October, November and 
December has just appeared. It justifies the publisher's characterization of the general 
scope and character of the magazine, as a publication devoted to the "literature, history, 
and picturesque features of Connecticut." In it the "New Haven Green" furnishes 
matter for a pleasant leading illustrated paper by Ellen Strong Bartlett, whose love for the 
old green and its local accessories is well calculated to awaken a corresponding interest in 
the subject among those of her readers whose homes are not in New Haven and who do 
not, therefore, fully share her local enthusiasm for the square and its history. Major Julius 

G. Rathbun contributes an interesting article on "The ' Wide-Awakes,' " the great Repub- 
lican organization of i860, which originated in Hartford, and before the Presidential 
election of the November of that year had spread into other States till it numbered 500,000 
members. The numerous portraits of early members and officers add to the interest and 
value of the paper. 

Another interesting paper in this number of the Quarterly is Howard W. Ben- 
jamin's illustrated article on "The Pope and Pond Parks and Their Donors" — a good 
sketch of the important donations of Hartford's proposed park system. 

Miss C. Antoinette Shepard, of New Brtiain, one of our best botanists, contributes 
a valuable article on " Some Native Orchids." It shows, both in the text and in the 
illustrations, something of the wealth of floral beauty in our northern orchids — of which 
Connecticut has nearly fifty species. Frances A. Breckenridge contributes a paper on 
"Memories of Meriden." 

There is in this number a collection of extracts from the journal of Elijah Backus, 
edited by Miss Larned, on the " Yale Boys of the Last Century," which will be read with 
much interest. 

There are other good things in this number of the Quarterly, particularly Mrs. 
Parker's paper on "New Britain in the Days or the Revolution," and Mr. Carrington's 
continuation of his illustrated papers about rambles along the western border of Hartford 
county. The magazine is a credit to Connecticut. It is published by the Connecticut 
Quarterly Company, and costs but 5° cents a year. 

The foregoing is but one of the many testimonials we have received. 

Each of the other numbers for 1895 were of uniform excellence, 
and for 1896 we shall produce a better magazine in every respect 
than we have in 1895. Improvement is our constant aim. 

It needs to be seen to be appreciated. 

Send 15 cents for single copy, either No. 3 or No. 4. 

Nos. 1 and 2 of Volume I are out of print. 

We can begin subscriptions as far back as No. 3 (the July-August- 
September number) if desired. 



Enter a diJcharo fAhe 

Small -Pox Hospital 

For 1896 

Our plans include representation ot the 
very rich and interesting historical fields oi 
New Haven, Fairfield and Litchfield counties, 
not forgetting to continue in Hartford county 
and taking as much as possible of other parts 
of the State into consideration. 

From the abundant material at hand, it 
is our purpose to so represent the State that the bound volumes of The 
Quarterly will be the most interesting and valuable books on Connecticut 
ever published. Illustrated articles on " The History of Mining in Con- 
necticut," "The Quarries of the State," "The Evolution of the 
Towns," "The Early Highways and Stage Coaching Days," besides 
other matters pertaining to the early history of different parts of the 
State will appear. Among the more modern topics, an important article 
for which we are now planning, is a finely illustrated one on ' ' Con- 
necticut at the Atlanta Exposition." 

Numerous other valuable features we shall bring to your attention 
as the numbers appear. 

For further information address 


66 State St, Courant Bldg., 


or see vour newsdealer or local agent. 

•? <®/& 

. . . THE . . . 

Connecticut Quarterly. 

An Illustrated Magazine. 

Devoted to the Literature, History, and Picturesque 
Features of Connecticut. 



66 State Street, Courant Building, 

Hartford, Conn. 

Geo. C. Atwell, General Manager. W. Farrand Felch, Editor. 



Vol. i. 

January, February, March, 1895. 


Frontispiece. " The Twilight Hour." 

From a painting by Gardner A. Reckard. 

Historic Homes. 1. Homes of Genius. Illustrated. 

House and Home. Poem. Selected. 

Tunxis, Which is Farmington. Illustrated. 

Nasturtiums. Poem. Selected. 

The Charter Oak. Poem. Illustrated. 

Trio and Tripod. i. In the Tunxis Valley. Illustrated 

Old Colonial Characters. i. Jonathan Edwards. 

Reginald Roxdale. A Study of Heredity. 

The Center Church Burying Ground, and its 
Associations. Illustrated. 

Connecticut. Poem. ..... 

A Visit to Mrs. Sigourney. Illustrated. 

Unafraid. Poem. Selected. .... 

The Small-Pox Hospital Rock, at Farming- 
ton, Conn. Illustrated. 

Nature Poems. ..... 

The History of Anaesthesia. Illustrated. 

Cousin Lucrece. Poem. Selected. 

Bushnell Park. 

IV. Farrand Felch. 

Martha Stanley. 

Elle7i Brainerd Peck. 
George H. Carrington. 
Felix Oldmixon. 
Frankliti E. Denton. 

Mary K. Talcott. 
Louis E. Thayer. 
Louise J. R. Chapman. 
Richard E. Burton. 

James Shepard. 

John Ross iter. 

James McManus, D. D. S. 

Edmund Clarence Stedman. 

Sherman IV. Adams. 

Rev. Geo. Leon Walker, D. D. 
Frederic Beecher Perkins. 







The Editor. 

•• U 


ut Leaves." — An Adequate 

The Hartford Park System. 

Elizabeth; Her Belt. Poem. Selected. 

The Thomas Hooker of To-day. 

(Abstract of Sermon.) 

Scrope; or the Lost Library: .... 

A Novel of New York and Hartford. 


The Round Table 

Fore-Words. — " The Thomas Hooker of To-day." (Contributed.)- 
State History. — Personal Journalism. — A Word of Promise. 

Musical Melange. ...... "Minerva" 

New York Notations: Edwin Warren DeLeon, of New York City. — " The Messiah," by Prof. Charles 
H. Johnson, of Hartford.— Hartford Musical Culture. (Contributed.)— Rubenstein: Requiescat. (Se- 
lected.) — Chopin and Tennyson. (Selected.) — Schubert's Unfinished Symphony. (Sonnet.) — New 
Worship.— A New Music Hall.— A Public Musical Library. 

Treasure Trove '. "Algernon:' 94 

Patriotic Societies; Ignorance of Ancestry; Connecticut Society of the Sons of the American Revolution; 
Society of Colonial Wars in Connecticut; Society of the Daughters of the Revolution in Connecticut; 
Connecticut Historical Society. 

Notes and Queries. 98 

Sociology and Civics "Solon." 99 

Our School of Sociology; Science of Duty; School of Sociology; Connecticut Society of .University 
Extension; Connecticut Humane Society. 

A Free Lance in the Fueld of Life and Letters. Felix Oldmixon. 103 

Copyright 1895 by The Connecticut Quarterly Co. {All rights reserved.') 
Price 50 cents per year, 15 cents a number. Remittances should be made by P. O. order or registered letter. Money by 

mail at sender's risk. The Connecticut Quarterly Co., Box 565, Hartford, Conn. 
CAUTION. — Do not pay money to agents unknown to you personally, unless they have authority signed by the 
manager of the Company to collect such money, and give you a receipt also signed by the manager of the Company and 
countersigned by themselves. 


For the Second Quarter we can now mention the following attractive papers : 


of Brooklyn, N. Y., which will be illustrated from photographs by Mrs. Marie H.Kendall, of Norfolk. 
This article gives a graphic survey of the picturesque hill-top resort of Connecticut. 

TRIO AND TRIPOD, by George H. Carrington, 

an engaging chronicle of the adventures and exploits of our " trio " of artists, in the Tunxis Valley, 
while passing through the towns of Avon, Simsbury and the Granbys. 

SIMSBURY, by Rev. John B. McLean, 

the principal of the McLean Seminar} 7 , is an article that has been carefully prepared by one of the 
ablest writers in Connecticut, and is fully illustrated by some fine views of the elm-lined highways 
and byways, and of the historic spots of one of the most beautiful villages in the Tunxis valley. It 
will be appropriately supplemented by a historical ballad : 

THE BURNING OF SIMSBURY, by Albert Lewis Thayer, 

of Collinsville, describing the destruction of the primitive village by King Philip, on Sunday, March 
26th, 1676, the ancient warrior witnessing its downfall from the top of Talcott Mountain. 

THE THREE DATES, by Franklin E. Denton, 

a new story by the author of " Reginald Roxdale " in this issue, in his peculiar, weird, Poesque style. 

SCENES IN AND AROUND GRANBY, by Howard W. Benjamin. 

This graphic chronicle will be liberally interspersed with half-tone engravings from photographs by 
the author, and drawings by F. L. Stanton. 


will be an appropriate feature of the April issue, illustrated by a young artist of this State who has 
recently returned from abroad. 

SUFFIELD, by Prof. Martin H. Smith, . 

for years Principal of the Conn. Literary Institution, a ready and fluent writer, will be welcomed by 
all lovers of that pleasant village of classic shades. 


by " Felix Oldmixon" will be continued in this and ensuing numbers, the second chapter containing 
an account of Jonathan Edwards's home, and the childhood of Aaron Burr. 

HISTORIC HOMES, II, Homes of Wealth, 

will deal with the residences of wealthy and well-to-do people of this city, who have done so much 
to beautify, adorn, and benefit the city. 


President of the Board of Park Commissioners, will be continued, the second chapter treating of 
Bushnell Park under the Commissioners, bringing the record down to the present day. 

A REVOLUTIONARY BOYCOTT, by Miss Ellen D. Larned, 

the historian of Windham County, well and favorably known throughout the State for rare historical 
acumen, fidelity and enthusiasm. 


will be an especially bright and pleasing number. It will deal largely with the hill-top and sea-side resorts 
of the State, giving a fair selection from an already large list. 

CANTON, by Hon. William Edgar Simonds, 

ex-Speaker of the House, ex-U. S. Commissioner of Patents, and ex-President of the Copyright 
League, will treat of the town he has chosen for his summer home, in all its virginal summer beauty. 


editor of the Norwalk Gazette for nearly half a century, the well-known war correspondent in " the 
late unpleasantness " and intimate friend of Lincoln, Seward, Greeley and many others, will write of 
his home for years, and its attractive and pleasant environment. 

CLINTON, by Miss Ellen Brainerd Peck, 

whose reputation as a poet is increasing, and whose dainty verses " remind one of old china cups 
over-flowing with riant Jacqueminot roses," as a friend declares, will write of this beautiful town. 

THE OLD HOUSES OF STONINGTON, by Hon. Richard A. Wheeler, 

the venerable historian of Stonington, who will write of his own town and its quaint old residences. 

POMFRET, by Hon. John Addison Porter, 

editor of the Hartford Post, who will treat of the town he has selected as his own summer home. 
Besides all these we are promised a number of others that will appear in early numbers. 

ROCKY HILL, by Dr. Rufus W. Griswold. , 

VERNON, by Rev. E. Payson Hammond. 

NIANTIC, by A Young Soldier, NOROTON, by An Old Soldier, 

and numerous others are in preparation. 


We have received tributes, "almost too numeruus to mention," of which we give a few: 

From Prof. Nathan II. Allen : " I like the scheme as you outline it, and certainly wish you all success." 

From the Hon. Henry Barnard, LL. D. : " I am quite sure from your specimen signature and your 
table of contents you will stay, but progress through pastures and fields new, from year to year. God 
speed your plough, your reaper and your rake." 

From Mrs. Louise J. R. Chapman, Chicago : " I thankfully acknowledge the receipt of prospectus of 
The Conn. Quarterly. I am so much pleased with its appearance, its attractive cover and charming 'in- 
terior,' its chaste and clear typography, artistic illustrations and undivided pages that I make haste to ex- 
press my pleasure upon its combined merits. 

From Prof. D. N. Camp, New Britain: " I congratulate you upon the auspicious undertaking, and 1 
shall expect to find much in it that will interest and instruct." 

From Mrs. Elizabeth Champion Lathrop, West Springfield, Mass. : " I am very much pleased with it. 
I would not care if I did not read anything else than articles of this kind. I like very much your plan for 
The Quarterly." 

From Miss Ellen D. Larned : " I was very pleased to receive your prospectus. Have long wished that 
our State could have such a mouthpiece. I am very sure that there is sufficient material and competent 
writers to fill such a magazine with great credit." 

From Prof. John B. McLean, of McLean Seminary : " I wish to say that I am delighted with it, and 
anticipate much pleasure and profit in the future in the companionship of this very artistic and instructive 
magazine. I have often wished for something of the kind for our State." 

From Matthews and Wilberforce, Heraldry and Genealogy, Phila. : " We think it promises to be a valu- 
able and interesting work." 

From Hon. John Addison Porter, editor of Hartford Post : " You have my best wishes for success in 
the undertaking. If rightfully managed the magazine ought to reflect credit on this city and prove a good 
financial investment." 

From Prof. Francis T. Russell, principal St. Margaret's School, Waterbury : " Success to you in your 
historical enterprise." 

From Miss Russell : " My brother and myself were very much interested in the prospectus. My dear 
sister, Mrs. Russell, would have felt a tender interest in Mrs. Chapman's article, but she is no longer with 
us. She departed this life the 20th of August, 1889." (Mrs. Sigourney's only daughter.) 

These are but a small number of those we are receiving. We are always glad to get warm testimo- 
nials from those living outside of their native State or descended from Connecticut people. There are many 
such yet to hear from. 

This issue will reach over ten thousand people. 

Our first subscriber was from Havana, Cuba. Good news spreads fast. 

Subscribe for yourself. Subscribe for your friends. See premium list on next page. 

We want ten thousand more subscribers within the next six months; and feel sure we will get them. 

We wisely make no pretense of competing with the leading magazines of general trend and wide scope. 

We desire to make our magazine more original and brilliant in time and to present as many features as 
the larger magazines. 

Will you help us to get a large subscription list. Every one can win a premium, as nearly every one 
subscribes who sees the magazine. 

We apologize for the lateness of the present issue for reasons explained in the editorial columns. The 
second number will appear April first. 

This is in no sense an experiment, nor a sample issue only, for every number will be as good as the 
first issue, and the general average as high. 

We want to reach those who have lived in Connecticut or are otherwise interested in the State. Ad- 
dresses of such will be thankfully received that we may send circulars. 

Lastly we have made little effort to secure advertising for the first number, not being certain until type 
was all received when it would appear. We solicit a good class of advertising for future numbers. 




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l 5 





l S 






Box 565, Hartford, Conn. 

The Connecticut Quarterly. 

Leave not your native land b 


Vol. i 

January, February and March, 189 J. 

No. 1 

p r * q 

m € ** 


^ **<*'<?&■„ ^ 



Not every home is historic. It is seldom that a house is greater than its 
present occupants. Being simply a shell or shelter, and not carried around like 
the snail's, it acquires little individuality. But if, by force of past associations 
and inherent interest, it attains to greater consideration than its present occu- 
pants, it surely is as much entitled to the historic increment as if it actually 
lived, moved, and had a being. There are those among us who are so thor- 
oughly attached to the houses in which we had birth, wherein we lived in child- 
hood, where we acquired manhood, or have led calm, contented, marital careers 
for long years past, that we learn to love them as if they were human and pos- 
sessed personal attributes. 

Such a sentiment cannot be translated and written on paper. Your home 
or mine may be of the simplest and humblest description, but it is our own ; 


and while it may be regarded cavalierly by others, as only one of a multitude, 
to us it is hedged almost with divinity. But it is not of such that we write. The 
homes of culture, refinement, luxury, and picturesque beauty attract the most 
attention. But above and beyond all these, the home of genius possesses the 
greatest fascination, be it a sturdy cotter's hovel, a lordly castle, a plain ex- 
terior, or a gaudy facade decorated with tablet or emblazoned with armorial 

It is our especial privilege to be able to present to the curious reader a 
group of pictures of the exteriors of homes of genius that are not in any sense 
displeasing or disenchanting; all possessing a quiet dignity appropriate to their 
environment, and with no evidence that their builders sought for extraneous 
details or decorations out of keeping with the character of the occupants. In 

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fact, it would be extremely inappropriate in " the land of steady habits " to over- 
step the bounds of propriety in this as in any other case. 

It is a common saying that " one cannot throw a stone in Hartford with- 
out hitting an author. " And, indeed, in certain sections, this is no doubt true, 
provided one is not an expert marksman. There appears to be a universal 
tendency in every city or large congeries of people for folk of each vocation to 
" flock by themselves. " So that all trades, all professions even, have their 
select haunts and habitats, as if they had been sieved and winnowed and fallen 
in allotted spots. It is not remarkable in the lesser walks of life that competi- 
tion should force tradesmen together ; but authors are not a gregarious class, 
and prefer isolation and self-communing. So that it seems singular to find, 
really within a stone's throw of one another, the homes of some of the leading 
lights in our literature, their occupants dwelling together in unity of spirit and 
interests, while around, in near proximity, naturally congregate a lesser coterie 



growing in strength and grace. It is in fact almost a literary colony — not, how- 
ever, on the plan of the famous Brook Farm experiment. 

It is not our purpose to delve in the past literary history of the city, where 
we should find an embarrassment of riches, in the days of the " Hartford Wits," 
a century or less ago, but to give a glimpse of the homes of the present contin- 
gency. One naturally reverts to Mrs. Sigourney as almost of this latter genera- 
tion of writers, and yet so much of the past that she has gained already a repu- 
tation in directions that she could not have anticipated. 

The home of Mrs. Sigourney was on Asylum street, now overlooking the 
railroad embankment that separates it from the Capitol grounds and Bushnell 
Park. It was originally owned by Charles Sigourney, her husband, and was 
built in the old Colonial style, with massive Ionic columns to the two-story 

" portico, " which is surmounted by a 
wide cornice. South of the house is a 
brick barn, on which the letters "C. S. " 
( the proprietor's initials ) appear in 
ironwork, on the Capitol side of the 
building. In this barn was set apart for 
years a room in which traveling indi- 
gents — not of our common genus 
"tramp" in that early day — could find 
shelter and comfort for the night ; and 
it was always open to those of that class 
of men who were not objectionable. In 
our degenerate day, when the " common 
tramp " marks your front gate with all 
sorts of cabalistic signs, to denote to the 
next comer of his ilk the degree of your 
hospitality and the prowess of your 
watch-clog, such " Open Hearth " recep- 
tions are not thought of for a moment. 

Mrs. Sigourney came to this home 
as a bride, and much of her literary 
work was accomplished here. It is not 
even a trifle poetic in appearance to- 
day, albeit the outlook is over the 
beautiful park ; and it would be a very 
modern and fin de sicclc muse that could find inspiration, tormented with momen- 
tary interruptions of noisy locomotive leviathans almost at the front door. 

The house is surrounded by many of the old forest trees, and part of the 
original orchard still remains. It stands back from the street at some distance, 
and would not attract more than passing notice if it were not pointed out to 
the stranger. Ex-Lieutenant Governor Julius Catlin spent a large part of his 
life in this house, dying there a few years since. The railroad has despoiled the 
place of its poetic suggestions and attractiveness, and it is fast becoming a 
forgotten, or at least a neglected, landmark. 

A later writer, one who was intimately acquainted with the poet, writes 
of her literary friendships : 

" In the words of S. G. Goodrich, the historian, Lydia Huntley soon became ' the presiding genius of 
the young social circle of Hartford ; and as the years went by she gathered about her a circle of distin- 
guished people such as any woman might feel honored to consider her salon. ' After her marriage to 
Charles Sigourney, her beautiful home .... became the place most sought for by literary and 
artistic men and women who came to Hartford. It was also the scene of her greatest literary activity. 
David Clark was her friend and financial adviser. Mr. Wadsworth encouraged and aided her literary work 




Whittier, whom she intensely admired, was a frequent visitor, during his sojourn in this city, while con- 
nected with the New England Weekly Review, subsequently merged with the Courant. 

William Cullen Bryant was an intimate friend of our Hartford queen of song, and I have before me, 
as I write, a volume of his ' Thirty Poems, ' which he gave to Mrs. Sigourney, with an autograph inscrip- 
tion to her. Every one was pleased to be numbered among her friends. She "was a constant attendant at 
Christ Church, where she was a communicant. There stands a beautiful memorial tablet of her, erected 
by her friends and admirers. Bishop Williams, who was her trusted friend, has given it a suitable inscrip- 
tion, and the epitaph is from the pen of Whittier. This, it has been said, practically embodies a 
biography of the poetess : 

' She sang alone, ere womanhood had known 

The gift of song which fills the air to-day; 
Tender and sweet, a music all her own 

May fitly linger where she knelt to pray. 

One of the most attractive streets in the city has been honored with the 
poet's name, and a new park adjoining it bids fair to achieve a like distinction. 

It is amusing, to one who cares to notice the humorous side of 

literate life, 


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how varied the pronunciation of the name of this street has become with those 
who do not seem to be capable of pronouncing, much less spelling it, and per- 
haps have never heard of the poet — ringing all the changes, " Siggernay, " 
" Signerary, " " Siggernerary," " Singery, " " Sijourney, " " Sy-gourney " — with 
the accent on the second syllable — and many other tortuous permutations of a 
not unmusical and honest old Huguenot name. 

Perhaps of more interest in the eyes of the present generation of sightseers 
is the home of Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe, a name that has become a house- 
hold word in every home in the land. It is on Forest street, which derives its 
name, as one may readily suppose (" guess," we had almost said), from being 
hewn out of the forest primeval at no distant bygone year. It is a plain unpre- 
tending home, as one may see, but is so distinctly homelike, broadside to the 
street and near it, — indicating open and abundant hospitality within, as well as 
a desire on their part to be near to and in touch with the world without. There 
is no attempt to hide from the public gaze ; and perhaps one may have the rare 


good fortune now and then to sec the aged occupant herself in a stolen glimpse. 
It is no impious motive that leads the curious to seek for this boon, and perhaps 
it is more or less pardonable; besides, she seldom goes abroad now, except in 
the best weather and at rare intervals. 

Mrs. Stowe was born June 14, 1 8 1 1 , in Litchfield, Conn., and is now nearly 
84 years of age. Her eldest sister, Catharine, was born in 1 800 ; then came 
William, Edward, Mary, George, Harriet, who died at the age of a month, 

Harriet Elizabeth ( herself, named 
I — • after the one who had just died be- 

fore her birth, according to the old 
Puritan precedent ) ; two years 
younger was Henry Ward, and next 
came Charles. These were the chil- 
dren of the first wife of Rev. Lyman 
Beechcr, named Roxanna Foote, of 
the almost as famous Foote family. 
Of the other members of these fami- 
lies we may have something to say 

Harriet Beechcr first came to 

Hartford at the age of thirteen, to 

attend a school recently established 

by her sister Catharine. Of this 

period she wrote later: "When I 

entered the school there were not 

more than twenty-five scholars in it, 

but it afterwards numbered its pupils 

—^ by the hundreds. The schoolroom 

*~ was on Main street, nearly oppo- 

c^&L^ <^v*^>^_ site Christ Church, over Sheldon & 

Colton's harness store, at the sign of 

February 26, 1827, Catharine wrote to her father, Dr. 


z^t- f!^ 

the two 

white horses. 

"My affairs go on well. The stock is all taken up, and next week I 
hope to have out the prospectus of the Hartford Female Seminary. " In this 
Harriet "remained as pupil and teacher until 1832. 

In 1832 Dr. Beecher received a call to become President of the Lane Theo- 
logical Seminary, in Cincinnati, and thither also went his daughters (excepting 
Mary, who had married Mr. Thomas Perkins of Hartford, and remained here) 
to establish another ladies' seminary. In 1836 Harriet became the second wife 
of Prof. Calvin E. Stowe of the Lane Theological Seminary. Mrs. Stowe had 
her first introduction to slavery while on a visit in Kentucky, on an estate which 
afterwards figured as that of " Mr. Shelby" in " Uncle Tom's Cabin. " 

We cannot linger over the portrayal of her later literary career in the 
short space^given us, but must perforce speak of her return to Hartford in 
1863,^11611 Prof. Stowe's long and pleasant Andover connection ended. 
They occupied a house in Hartford built on the bank of Park river, in a 
grove of oaks that had been a favorite resort in her girlhood ; she had declared 
then if she ever built a house it should stand in that spot. It was then be- 
yond the city limits and a beautiful location, but the family occupied it only 
a few years, as factories sprang up in the near vicinity, and to escape their 
encroachments the Stowes removed to their present home, which we have 
pictured, on Forest street, in 1873. The first house, the only one ever planned 
by Mrs. Stowe, is now occupied by several families as a tenement house. 


Mr. and Mrs. Stowc resided in Florida, at Mandarin, for several winters, 
from 1866 onward. Here they had a many gabled cottage overlooking the St. 
Johns river, which is at this place five miles wide, in a grove of moss-grown live- 
oaks, and with a well-tended orange grove in the rear. On the broad veranda 
the aged professor spent many quiet hours, in that absolute peace and restful 
calm which his scholarly nature delighted in ; at almost any hour the patriarchal 
figure might be seen sitting on the broad veranda, with a basket of books close 
at hand, many of them in the dead languages. The last winter spent in their 
southern home was that of 1883-84, as the professor's health was too precarious 
to permit the long journey thither the next winter. He died in Hartford, in 
August, 1886, full of years and honors. He was the original of "Harry" in 
" Old Town Folks, " a book which embodies many of his strange experiences. 

None of the incidents or characters in the Old Town series are ideal ; they ( 
are true to nature not only, but actually happened. Sam Lawson was a real 


character. Mrs. Stowe began writing in 1833, and ended in 1881, in that time 
publishing thirty-two works, besides an incredible amount of short stories, letters 
of travel, essays, and other matter; her literary life really began in 1852, with 
" Uncle Tom's Cabin, " and the twenty-six years that ended in 1878 with " Poga- 
nuc People" were crowded with hard work. Her public life ended soon after 
that, and she has rested from her arduous labors since. To a friend she writes, 
later : " I have thought much lately of the possibility of my leaving you all 
and going home. I am come to that stage of my pilgrimage that is within sight 
of the River of Death, and I feel that now I must have all in readiness day and 
night for the messenger of the King. " 

The homes of the three most noted of the Hartford literati of the present 
day are in speaking distance of one another, in an odd-shaped triangle. Mr. 
Warner's home is situated somewhat back from Forest street, while Mr. Clem- 
ens' home faces, or should face, Farmington Avenue, which intersects Forest 


street, but in point of fact the rear or side of the house is presented to the 
avenue, so that it is a constant source of gossip with passers-by that " Mark- 
Twain built his kitchen in front of his house, facing the street. " But this is 
hardly the truth, as one may see by closer examination, and a knowledge of the 
bizarre order of architecture adopted for the purpose, conforming to the rolling 
contour of the ground on which the house stands. Air. Warner's home is in 
the rear of both Mrs. Stowe's and Mr. Clemens' homes, and has the distinction 
of being on a lot which contains more of the original monarchs of the forest than 
any other lot in the city. It is an imposing structure, especially when seen from 
a distance. 

The golden age of Hartford literature, at least as far as the present century 
is concerned, was in the "seventies" and "eighties." Mr. Warner came to 
Hartford in i860, as one of the editors of the Press, and later became one of 
the editors and proprietors of the Courant, with which he is still connected ; 
but he did not begin to write books until 1871, when " My Summer in a Gar- 
den " appeared. Mrs. Stowe returned to Hartford in 1864, and several of her 
works were published prior to the "seventies," notably "The Minister's Woo- 
ing" and " Old Town Folks, " both in 1868. Mr. Clemens has lived in Hartford 
since 1871, at which time only his "Innocents Abroad" had appeared in book 
form, in 1869. 

It is with the advent of the last of the famous trio that their most produc- 
tive period began, continuing almost uninterruptedly for two decades. In 187 1 

appeared Mrs. Stowe's " Pink and 
White Tyranny," and " My Wife and 
I ; " Mr. Warner's " Summer in a 
Garden, " which had been originally 
printed in the columns of the Cour- 
ant, and attracted considerable atten- 
tion, was published the same year. 
In 1872 came Mr. Clemens' "Rough- 
ing It, " and Mr. Warner's "Saunter- 
ings " and his inimitable " Back Log 
Studies. " In 1873, Mrs. Stowe's 
"Palmetto Leaves; " in 1874 Mr. 
Warner's " Baddeck, " and Mr. Per- 
kins' "Scrope;" in 1875 Mrs. Stowe's 
"We and Our Neighbors," and the 
next year Mr. Clemens' "Mark Twain 
Sketches, " and his first boy's book, 
the delightful " Tom Sawyer, " while 
Mr. Warner produced the first of his 
transatlantic saunterings, " My Win- 
ter On the Nile," following it the next 
year with " In the Levant." In 1877 
charles Dudley warner. ' a i so> Mr. Perkins collected a num- 

ber of his stories into a volume called " Devil Puzzlers and Other Stories. " In 
1878 Mr. Warner published " Being a Boy, " and " In the Wilderness, " and the 
same year appeared Mrs. Stowe's " Poganuc People. " This is but the record 
of one decade. In the next decade Mrs. Stowe's pen became inactive and she 
retired from public life, as already noted. But Mr. Clemens inaugurated his 
fascinating series of Don Quixotic romances, located abroad, " The Prince and the 
Pauper" and others, while Mr. Warner continued his conquests of unexplored 
territory, and still has " other worlds to conquer. " 

:K .'X '" '\— X% 




_ 1 


Mr. Warner was born in Plainfield, Massachusetts, Sept. 12, 1829, and as 
Dr. Twichell says of him, " the ink began to stir in his veins when he was a 
boy. " He has embodied in his charming volume, " Being a Boy, " his recol- 
lections of his boyhood, in a typical Calvinistic New England village of fifty 
years ago. While in college he contributed to Putnam's and the " Knickerbocker " 
magazines, and edited a "Book of Eloquence" soon after graduating in 1851 
from Hamilton College. He subsequently graduated from the law department 
of the University of Pennsylvania in 1856, and practiced his profession in Chi- 
cago until i860, when he was called east to become assistant editor of the Press, 
which was subsequently merged into the C our ant of which he became co-editor 
with Gen. Hawley, and subsequently editor. In 1884 he became one of the 
editors of Harper's Monthly Magazine and has continued in that connection to 
the present, during which time his most important work has been published in 
its pages, as for instance " Studies in the South, " followed by some Mexican 
papers, and by " Studies in the Great West. " His later work has been in simi- 
lar lines and fully as successful, in particular, "Their Pilgrimage" and the pres- 
ent year " The Golden House, " — a study of socialistic tendencies. He was. for 
several years a member of the Connecticut State Committee on Prisons, and of 
the National Prison Association, and also for a number of years a member of 
the Park Commission of Hartford. Yale gave him the degree of Master of Arts 
in 1872 and Dartmouth in 1884. 

In this connection Ave cannot well refrain from quoting from a felicitous 
sketch of his home, by his neighbor and friend, Rev. Dr. Joseph H. Twichell, 
which appeared in The Critic several years ago, and afterwards in a book called 
41 Authors at Home, " published in 1888 : 

" It stands unenclosed, several rods back from the street in a grove of noble chestnuts, having no other 
grounds nor needing any either. Close behind, at the foot of a steep, bushy bank sweeps abend of a con- 
siderable stream. ' The Garden, ' which Mr. Warner has made so famous, will be looked for in vain on 

the premises It pertained to another house where Mr. Warner lived when 'My Summer in a 

Garden' was written; the fireside of it, also, is celebrated in his 'Back-Log Studies,' to not a few of his 
readers the most delightful of his books, — a house dear to the recollection of many a friend and guest. 
. As one would anticipate, the interior of Mr. Warner's house is genial and homelike. The 
cheerful drawing-room opens into a wide, bright, music-room, making, with it, one shapely apartment of 
generous, hospitable proportions. The furnishing is simple, but in every item pleasing. A hint of modern 
decorative art is there, though under rational restraint. A chimney-piece of Oriental design rises above the 
fireplace of the music-room set with antique tiles brought by Mr. Warner from Damascus. Other spoils of 
travel are displayed here and there, with pictures and engravings of the best. In the nook of a bow- 
window is a lovely cast of the Venus of Milo, which, when it was made a birthday present in the family, 
was inscribed ' The Venus of My-h' eye. ' The house is full of books. Every part of it is more or less of a 
library. Laden shelves flank the landings of the broad stairway, and so on all the way up to the work- 
room in the third story, where a statuette of Thackeray, on our author's table seems to survey with amuse- 
ment the accumulated miscellaneous mass of literature stacked and piled around Upon any 

volume of this collection Mr. Warner can lay his hand in an instant — when he has found where it is. 
. . His home is a thoroughly charming one in every way, and whoever may have the pleasure of 
an evening there will come away wishing he might write an article on the mistress of that house. " 

Mrs. Warner is considered to be the most accomplished amateur musician 
in New England. Most of the able musical criticisms so prominent throughout 
Mr. Warner's writings are due to her influence. 

Mr. Frederic B. Perkins is not now a resident of Hartford, but born here and 
closely allied in many ways with this city. He is a year older than Mr. Warner, 
to the month. He is a grandson of Lyman Beecher, a son of Thomas C. Perkins 
who married Mary Beecher, and is also a brother-in-law of Rev. Dr. Edward 
Everett Hale, of Boston. He does not approve of sketches of authors, on 
general principles, and of himself in particular ; but from his associations with 
Hartford, we shall perhaps be forgiven if we give the barest outline of his liter- 
ary career. He was a member of the Class of '50 at Yale, but left college in '48 
to begin the study of law. In 1851 he was admitted, at Hartford, and a year 
later he entered the Connecticut State Normal School, where he graduated the 


i i 



same year. He held various positions in Hartford until 1854, in which year he 
went to New York, remaining until [857; then returning to Hartford, he 
became assistant editor of Barnard's American Journal of Education , and was 
also appointed librarian of the Connecticut Historical Society. Later he became 
secretary of the Boston Public Library, and from 'So-'Sj he was librarian of the 
San Francisco free public library, and still later was employed in the Sutro 
library. In '81 he published his "Rational Classification of Hooks," and a 
revised edition the next year. He has also been editorially connected with 
various papers and magazines. Among his writings are " Scrope " ( Boston, 
1874), " My Three Conversations with Miss Chester" ( 1877), " Devil Puzzlers 
and other studies" (1877), "Charles Dickens, his Life and Works " (1877). 
He also compiled a " Check-List of American Local History" (Boston, [876), 
and the fourth edition of his " Best Reading " appeared in 1877, the first edition, 

in collaboration with the late 
George P. Putnam, having ap- 
peared in '72. He has contri- 
buted to various periodicals sun- 
dry sketches and some fifty 
stories, the best known of which 
is perhaps "The Minister Manu- 
factory. " In his " Devil Puz- 
zlers, " his sketch entitled " Child- 
hood " possesses some local in- 
terest, being to some extent 

" Mark Twain's " life has 
been so often told that it seems 
a work of supererogation to re- 
peat ; as our space is limited we 
will only give a few salient points 
in his career, such as relate to 
this city. In 1868-9 Mr. Clem- 
ens was in Xew York city look- 
ing around for a publisher for 
his recently completed " Inno- 

J cents Abroad. " The late Albert 

fkederic b. perkins. D Richardson, having had sev- 

eral books published in Hartford, offered to place the manuscript in the hands 
of his publishers here. Mark had previously been to Hartford in August, con- 
ferring with a publisher but met little encouragement. As he expressed himself 
to his friends, " These publishers have astonished as much conceit out of me as 
a long siege of sea-sickness. " The result is well known ; Air. Bliss publishing 
the book on his own account, against the advice and objections of the other 
officers and directors. The sale, including pirated editions, reached 200,000 
copies. Mark was crazed with joy, and wrote to an old steamboat friend, 
" Thirty tons of paper have been used in publishing my book, ' Innocents 
Abroad. ' It has met with a greater sale than any book ever published, except 
' Uncle Tom's Cabin. ' Not so bad for a scrub pilot, is it? " 

On the occasion of his first visit to Hartford he wrote in one of his news- 
paper letters, at the close, his impressions of the city which was afterward to 
become his home : 

"I have been about ten days in Hartford, and shall return there before very long. I think it must be 
the handsomest city in the Union in summer. It is the moneyed center of the State; and one of its capi- 
tals, also, for Connecticut is so law-abiding, and so addicted to law, that there is not room enough in une 



city to manufacture all the articles they need. Hartford is the place where the insurance companies all 
live. They use some of the houses for dwellings. The others are for insurance offices. So it is easy to see 
that there is quite a spirit of speculative enterprise there. Many of the inhabitants have retired from busi- 
ness, but the others labor along in the old customary way, as presidents of insurance companies." 


At a Hartford dinner party one day, the subject of eternal life and future 
punishment came up for a lengthy discussion, in which Mark Twain took no 
part. A lady near him, turned suddenly and inquired : 

" Why do you not say any- 
thing? I want your opinion." 

Mr. Clemens replied gravely : 
" Madam, you must excuse me, I am 
silent of necessity. I have friends in 
both places. " 

His daughter at one time kept 
a diary, which was brought to the at- 
tention of her father. After this Clem- 
ens did and said several things that 
were intended to attract the child's 
attention, and found them duly noted 
afterward. But one day the follow- 
ing entry occurred : 

" I don't think I'll put down 
anything about father, for I think 
he does things to have me notice 
him, and I believe he reads this 
diary. " 

This is perhaps the same daugh- 
ter who in London, quite recently, 
was asked about one of her father's 
latest books, and replied : 



" Really, I can't give an opinion. Papa's books bore me terribly. I 
haven't read half of them. Papa is the nicest thing in the world, but, oh dear! 
I do wish he was not a famous funny man. " 

Probably no one would laugh more heartily over such a criticism and from 
such a source than Mr. Clemens himself. 


Where is the house, the house we love ? 

By field or river, square or street, 
The house our hearts go dreaming of, 

That lonely waits our hurrying feet ; 
The house to which we come, we come, 
To make that happy house our home. 

Oh dear dream house ! for you T store 
A medley of such curious things, 

As a wise thrush goes counting o'er, 
Ere the glad morn of songs and wings, 

When a small nest makes all her heaven, 

And a true mate that sings at even. 

Up those dim stairs my heart will steal, 
And quietly through the listening rooms, 

And long in prayerful love will kneel, 
And in the sweet-aired twilight glooms, 

Will set a curtain straight, or chair, 

And dust and order, and make fair. 

Oh, tarrying Time, hasten, until 

You light our hearth-fires, dear and warm 
Set pictures on these walls so chill, 

And draw our curtains 'gainst the storm. 
And shut us in together, Time, 
In a new world, a happier clime ! 

Whether our house be new or old 
We care not; we will drive away 

From last year's nest its memories cold, 
And all be gold that once was gray, 

Oh dear dream-house, for which we pray, 

Our feet come slowly up your way. 

'■:■'.. <:■•'■■!■* 




0faiQ*1 Is /%w///ero/v; 


Xor need one 
distance makes 

E\ _ er since the time when the ancient people came to Elim. where were 
twelve wells of water and three score and ten palm trees., water and trees have 
stood as symbols of rest and refreshment. 

From the standpoint of every true New Englander, all country without is 
desert ; but once within the magic border, the traveler finds a region abundant 
in groves and well-springs, a veritable Elim wherein to pitch his tent. 
travel far to find these spots. Only the difference which 
lies between them and the cities. Especially is this true of 
Farmington, near to Hartford on the one 
hand and to New Britain on the other. It is 
as remote from each as though impenetrable 
forests lay between. 

There are modern ways of reaching 

Farmington, but he who travels for pleasure 

will forego the convenience of the railroad 

and come by stage from Hartford ; thus 

entering the town from the hill, where the great elm tree stands, and the Inn 

which bears its name bids the traveler welcome. 

What a charm there is in being a stranger ! letting imagination take the place 
of knowledge and so creating a dream-village, out of which one may pass into 
reality as gradually as out of sleep. In this way nothing is forced upon us. We 
walk up and down the long street until we feel at home beneath its tree-. At 
sunset, when we turn our faces westward, the winding course of the willows and 

Note — The historical side of Farmington has been so well treated in the article by Ex-President Porter in the Memorial 
History of Hartford County, and an address by Mr. Julius Gay, that it is not dealt' with here. This does not preclude the 
possibility that an historical article may appear in these pages at another time in regard to Farmington. — E: . 



alders tells of the pleasant river that they guard. We become acquainted with 
the mountains round about; and soon the houses, grown familiar to us, begin 
to give up their secrets. 

It is held that appearances are deceitful ; nevertheless, nettles and thorns 
proclaim sloth now as truly as they did in Solomon's time ; while on the other 
hand a flower or a curtained window proclaim thrift and hospitality, and may 
be our open sesame. The scent of burning wood and the curling line of smoke 
tell their story night after night, until we know where are the cosiest firesides. 
So we begin to feel in touch with the life around us. Our dream-village resolves 
itself into individual homes, and we are seized with that human interest which, 
sooner or later, under all circumstances, must assert itself. 

This is no place for Shakesperian discussion as to what is in a name, but it 

— . ■■■; :■'[-■: 


may be noted that after settling the points of the compass, the first question 
asked by the stranger is : " Who lives in the house across the way? " and hav- 
ing received an answer, he repeats the name with a satisfaction which is genuine 
if not understandable, albeit he probably will never exchange a word with the 
owner of the place. 

So in our village of Farmington we begin to ask questions. Indeed we do 
not so much ask them as we get them answered ; for once having shown proper 
interest, information comes — sometimes we know not how. 

There is a little store at the end of the street, near the Inn, where one 
may find things both " old and new." Perchance, if on a summer evening, 
one joins the little group which sits outside with chairs atilt, he may learn 
much which will serve him in his next day's walk. Let him who would have 
a happy mixture of truth and fiction hire a horse, and so obtain converse 
with that encyclopaedic individual, the liveryman, What a fund is his ! One 



can almost fancy that 
the patient plodding 
horses have caught 
the secret of many 
a quiet drive and 
confided the same, 
as at evening they 
responded to the 
master's caress. 

Be this as it may, 
knowledge comes, 
and what we have 
known as " t h e 
Colonial house within 
the gate " becomes 
the Thomas Cowles' 
place, and gives us 

our first hint of the part played by Farmington in the War of the Revolution. 

It was a young officer in Burgoyne's army, of clever brain and cunning hand, 



who designed this house ; and so left one evidence that the British, had they 
been so minded, could have built up as effectually as the}' tore down. 

So we walk the street, and in time call the houses all by name. To the 
oldest house in town we pa}' the respect that age demands. It is the lilac-bush 


at the corner that gives the touch that makes the picture typical of old New 
England homes. The traveler through the country must have noticed how truly 

the lilac is a part of the 
oldest homes, and often- 
times when the house has 
fallen away, these trees 
gently cover the ruin and 
mark the spot where once 
was life. 

There is -such a 
strong week-day attrac- 
tion in a country church 
that in most cases one 
prefers to obtain the key 
and enter alone, to wait- 
ing until such time as 
stated service gives" en- 
trance. Why do we 
the oldest house. imagine that w o r s h i p 

waits only upon the assembling of ourselves together? How thoroughly Charles 
Lamb understood when ne wrote : " Wouldst thou know the beauty of holiness? 
Go alone on some week- 
day ; traverse the cool aisles ~~"\ 
of some country church ; 
think of the piety that has 

kneeled there. With no j 

disturbing emot io n s, no 1 

cross conflicting compari- 
sons, drink in the tranquility 
of the place." The associa- 
tions of more than a hun- 
dred years are centered in 
this place ; and yet this 
house is but the child of the 
one which was before, and 
that in turn points backward 
to those earlier days when 
the first little meeting house 
planted in the forest, was 
the sign of the cloud and the 
fire to our forefathers, 
dwelling amid the dangers 
of an unsettled country. 
All the reverence we are 
wont to give to historic 
places, all the homage due 
to heroes, should be given 
here ; for what • is written 
history but the evidence of 
all that is unwritten, and 
what is a hero but the rep- 
resentative of many? It would seem from the exceeding plainness of this 
old house of worship that our elders thought not of beauty as the hand-maide 


THE church. 



of truth; and yet we find it crowned with a spire of most delicate design. 
Once having seen this spire against its background of blue sky or green hill, 
it becomes the central feature in the landscape, and from every point of view 
is the guide to the village in the valley. 

It is in full harmony with the New England spirit that we find in Farming- 
ton a school, which may be said to be the distinctive feature of the place. The 
very name, Porter, has an educational sound to New England ears, and Miss 
Porter's school has long been the embodiment of that wisdom whose- ways are 
ways of pleasantness. This institution, planted in 1844, has taken deep root in 
the little village and brought forth fruit, as do all beneficent things. There is 
also the "Art and Music Hall" on the hillside, built and presented to Miss 
Porter by " her girls. " 


At the south end of the street may be seen the " Lodge, " owned by the 
pupils past and present, and maintained by them for the benefit and pleasure 
of working girls who fill the house during the summer months. It is when we 
visit the cemetery, overlooking the Farmington river, and have read the in- 
scription on the Indian monument, that we become interested in the original 
tenants of this ground. Modern title deeds lose their value, and 

" Owners and occupants of earlier dates 

From graves forgotten stretch their dusty hands 
And hold in mortmain still their old estates." 

We are taken back to the year 1640, when the Tunxis tribe of Indians 
fished in these waters and hunted in the great forests beyond ; food there was 
sufficient, — salmon and venison. Along the river banks were the wigwam 
homes of the living; on this grassy slope above were resting places of their 
dead. Then the white man came through the woods from Hartford and made 
a treaty with Sequasson, the sachem, and the land was divided. 



After five years Tunxis was called Farmington and, in like manner, time 
removed the remnant of the tribe which bore the name. They were not exter- 
minated however, but as the forests were open and travel became less dangerous, 
they naturally became absorbed in other tribes. For many years after their de- 
parture they made yearly pilgrimages to this spot, and held midnight dances 
around the graves of their ancestors. Farmington has the reputation of com- 
paratively happy relations with the Indian tribes. Very rarely do we read of 
treachery or advantage on either side. 

There will be those who will be attracted by the inscription, " Memento Mori," 
over the gateway which leads into the old burying ground. Not alone in this 
enclosure, but everywhere, as we learn of the past, do the words come again, 
" Memento Mori, " and we ask concerning the fathers of this good land. 

The story is like many another of brave, true men who separated them- 
selves from the parent colony and pushed farther on into the wilderness, to 
replenish the earth and subdue it. We know how, for fear of enemies and wild 
beasts, and for desire of being near the meeting house, they built near each other 
on one long street. 

To us who sit in 
peace and plenty, those 
days are of romantic 
interest. We live in 
towns that are made 
for us. But think of 
laying out a town ! 
The record has all the 
flavor of patriarchal 
times. They came to 
Round Hill in the 
meadow and meas- 
ured, — To the north 
three miles, to the 
south five miles, to the 
east two miles, to the 
west two miles. Such 

ART AND MUSIC HALL. lands ag ^ nQt hdd 

by the proprietors were reserved for the purposes of public comfort and con- 
venience. All lands without were likewise measured and divided into shares ; 
to every man a share according to his wordly possessions. But, to the Rev. 
Samuel Hooker, first pastor of the Farmington church, was given a double 
portion, no doubt because they loved him, for he is remembered in written 
history as an " animated and pious Divine. " 

The town increased and was prospered, keeping in touch the while with all 
political questions of the day, and the growth of the country; and failing not at 
the appointed time to send her sons forth into battle. The little town furnished 
enough men for a regiment, and this statement interpreted is: "That every 
young man worthy of consideration was at some time in the field. " 

The village street formed a part of the highway from Boston to New York, 
and General Washington often passed through it, and sometimes halted to 
refresh himself at one of the hospitable inns. Perchance if one makes acquaint- 
ance with those of ancient heritage in the town, he may be shown some dainty 
china or rare bits of silk, which were once imported by Farmington merchants. 
You smile and scarcely believe that in this quiet place were once flourishing 
business houses? Even so, there were. The sign on the stores, "East India 




and West India Goods" bore witness, and the rustle of silks on Sunday gave 
testimony that foreign invasion had taken place and put to flight the homespun; 
while in the harbor of New Haven, and at Wethersfield, floated the vessels which 
were owned by these merchantmen. 

If the visitor to Farmington cares to inquire further into the history of the 
town, he will find information sure and plentiful from other sources. If he is 
but a passer-by, content to know the little here set forth, let him recognize what 
this little stands for, a tribute to a typical New England village ; and in parting 
lift his hat in reverence thereto. 


The whole little hill town blazed with them, 

Of strangest scarlet and oddest pink. 
If you walked through the streets your garment's hem 
Brushed by the flower and bent the stem 

That leaned from the gray fence chink. 

And every gay little girl one met 

Had their colors glowing against her hair, 

Or had daintily in her bosom set 

Some faded tint like a pink regret, 
Or a little rose-flushed despair. 

And through the open, bountiful doors, 

Down the glimmering dusk of ancient halls, 
In the old blue ware of orient shores, 
You saw them grouped on the shining floors, 
Or shelved on the paneled walls. 

For the whole little hill-town blazed with them 

And ever}' girl had a flower to wear, 
Hued like a star or hued like a gem, 
Or a scarlet flame on a flickering stem, 

Or gold as her own gold hair. 




Time's shadows thronging, gather fast 
About the deeds of storied years ; 

The fact that lived in sacred past, 
Now as a legend re-appears. 

A lofty oak up-reared its head, 

With stately branches spreading wide ; 

To this the red-man pointing, said, 
' To us it is a silent guide, 

That shows us that the spring draws near, 
For when its tender leaves are born — 

No larger than the grey-mouse ear — 
It then is time to plant the corn. 

Oh, white man, let our totem be 
And let the listening Indian hark 

Unto its whispering boughs and see 

Its opening buds — the spring-tide mark.' 

And so the old tree held its place, 
And felt the seasons ebb and flow, 

As stalwart as the conquering race 

Beneath its boughs — a passing show. 

Until at last, it chanced to be 
A safe that guarded, as if gold, 

The charter of our liberty — 

In those grand, earnest days of old. 

The red man's form dim memories fold; 

Across the past his shadow wan 
Flits on, to silences untold, 

Long since; the old tree too has gone, — 

Has vanished : for, by Nature's hand 

Forever was its hand laid low ; 
Its story, on Time's way will stand, 

A mile-stone, while the ages go. 



" With a trio of tripods, a coach and a span, 

And with cameras four, two boys and a man, 

Made a start, quite .intent to photo creation, 

For profit and pleasure and art recreation. / 

They " exposed " on the towns, on the mountains and ridges, 

The people, the meadows, the brooks and the bridges. 

And though pictures obtained counted up by the score 

They lamented when, passing, they lost one or more. 

Now, the nags of this team had a deep chestnut hue, 
And the natives considered a " chestnut, " the crew. 
They called them the mail, and gypsies and drummers, 
Surveyors and burglars, map-makers and bummers. 
The boy was called John — he was such a good waiter ; 
And t'other was " Huggins " — on account of his natur'; 
And the man was, from facts that ought not to be told, 
Soon named " Sir Philip," and " the boy that was old " — 


So sang " Sir Philip " himself, — as he had been dubbed by " the boys, " 


who deemed that his majestic presence, enhanced by his flowing beard, merited 
a title that became his appearance. 

We were on the mountain road from New Britain to Farmington, when 
Sir Philip pointed to an umbrella-like tree, upon a hill-side pasture, and told 



how he had photographed it and given it an honored place in his collection for 
years, labelled " Pepperidge Tree, " until " the other day I was up there after 
pepperidge blossoms, and found that it was a hornbeam. Of course we all 
make mistakes sometimes, especially the best of us, " sighed he. 

At the top of the hill, just before descending into the quiet village, a glimpse 
was caught of the beautiful Farmington valley. Flanked by Talcott mountain 
on the right, the broad meadows, with a most picturesque setting, stretch away 
to the northern line of hills where the " barn-doors " peep up in the blue dis- 
tance. Along the central part of the field, the line of trees marks the course of 
the river that flows through and gives its name to the valley. Here, then, was 
the enchanted land through which we were to pass. 

Sir Philip recalled how, long years ago, he had traversed the region in the 
capacity of a commercial traveler, seeking whom he could sell, and he antici- 
pated the delights of comparing the then and the now. 

Huggins, in turn, well remembered the time when, one summer afternoon, 
he strolled along the banks of the Farmington. He had copied the inscriptions 
__,„, , TO , TO . .,,_,. on the Indian monument, in the cemetery by 

HHI^HE, ,JSBH tne nvcr < an d photographed both of them 

He had sat in the shade and dozed and 
dreamed, as he watched the haymakers in the 
distant fields, wishing that he too was a farmer 
and could lead such a happy life. He had 
wandered along to where the piers of the old 
aqueduct were, still standing and sat there 
musing on the glory of that by-gone time in 
the palmy days of canal life, when the boats 
glided over them and the boatman's horn re- 
sounded through the vale. As he mused, 
his mind recurred to the time when the red 
man inhabited the land, and he repeated to 
himself that refrain from Channing: 

fit* m tli #fr « 4 fHeft tt 

further dteclenpes \i f &%®i 
inctvnf battle w affoxnghthe- 

6 \j orcltr«f *KeSth«>«A S«eii 

of Parw? * notonth is Mas w*i 

Tr% a\ \sK $«fct"l e merit ■ 


" Thus,[perchance, some Indian hunter, 
Many a lagging year agone, 
Gliding o'er thy rippling waters, 
Lowly hummed a natural song. 

Now the sun's behind the willows, 
Now he gleams along the waves, 
Faintly o'er the wearied billows, 
Come the spirits of the braves. " 

the strew* qar* tt-tffcTft-«*\] 

eA w 

He had dozed off thus into a quiet sleep, and was dreaming that" the Indian 
was crossing the river in his birch-bark, and was bearing down upon him, when 



the scene changed — and somehow he was transported to the home of his boy- 
hood and the school-mates of his youth". Who, among them all, should he re- 
membered more clearly than Clara — the little girl with wavy blonde hair and 
laughing blue eyes — to whom he addressed his first billet-doux and hence be- 
came the victim of school-boy teasing. Well, he did like her pretty well, and 
now she had grown to be a young lady and was a school teacher holding forth 
in the little school house near at hand, and had come down to see him and talk 
over old times. He was having a delightful time, sitting beside her on the bank, 
talking of the old home in the Green Mountain state and what had transpired 

y*t«£. /<, ;Jjkf*>& 

since leaving there — when, as the conversation was at a most interesting point, 
he awoke, and " 'twas but a dream ! " As "the closing hour of day came on- 
ward, mantled o'er with sober gray, " he reluctantly departed, resolved to soon 
revisit the scene, for " perchance, " said he " it was thought transmission. She 
may live there — who knows? " 

And even as Sir Philip and Huggins knew somewhat of this country, so 
John had been into the edge of it and had spent a Sabbath beneath the classic 
shades of Talcott Mountain. The minister, in the church he attended, removed 
his heavy coat and donned a light one, the better to emphasize his remarks by 
impressions on the pulpit cushion. The impression on the audience was that 
the sermon was original with some other man. Why need they object, if it was 
a better one than he could have prepared? Yet they hated to see his salary 



come so 

easy, and proceeded to cut it down before next Sunday. The elderly 

deacon, a pillar of the church leaning 
against another, the singer who hung 
on to the last notes, the women who 
looked pious and chewed fennell, the 
pretty girls in " the singers' seats " and 
elsewhere, the boys lining the vestibule 
after service, the small size of the church, 
where it seemed that you could shake 
hands from corner to corner, which 
made one feel so conspicuous, — all 
these reminded John of " going to 
meeting" in earlier times. On this trip, 
John would get a picture of that church. 
So each of the trio had plans for com- 
memorating " Auld Lang Syne " pic- 

And knowing not what treasury 
the golden rays of Phcebus had in store 
for us, we, the trio, went forth into the 
land of promise. We descended the 
hill and drove through one of the most 
beautiful of village streets. The long 
shady road and sidewalks, the large 
trees, the old, rich-looking houses, lend 
a charm to Farmington that is its own. 
Quaint and restful, yet full of thought 
is its atmosphere, a fitting place for 
philosophers to live. So much there 
was of interest here that it is left for 
abler ones to tell. 





We crossed the river, drove through fragrant pine woods where the bright 
Philadelphicum lilies blossomed by the roadside, stopped " to take " some 
horses in a pasture, turned into a by-road and lo ! were at the aqueduct. Is it 
any wonder that many recollections illumined the soul of Huggins as he gazed 
upon the scene? For, since he had there dreamed what he could not forget, 
he had often visited the place, and once found, upon conversing with a neigh- 
boring farmer that a flaxen-haired girl from somewhere in the northern part of 
New England had taught school near there a year or so before. This made 
Huggins hopeful. Perhaps he would find her yet. 

Sir Philip sat regarding the thirty-foot piers with a reminiscent, far-away 
look in his eyes, and finally said : " That would seem a queer structure to a 
stranger in this vicinity, unacquainted with its origin and former use. It has 

been nearly fifty years 
since a boat has been 
through the huge wooden 
trough that once rested 
upon the piers, yet they 
are firm to-day. They 
built for all time in those 
days, as you can observe 
by the solidity of the abut- 
ments. The tow-path here 
was evidently on the south 
side, as the top projections 
of the piers are wider on 
that edge. Many traces of 
this old water-way are yet 
visible. The bed can be 
traced" much of its course 
from New Haven, — where 
the tracks of the Consoli- 
dated railroad now run, — 
through Hamden, Ches 

Granby, and southern Mas- 
sachusetts to Northamp- 
ton. Much of it is over- 
grown with brush, and 
often containing good- 
sized trees ; but there are 
stretches of it as clear as 
in the days of its use. Rid- 
ing along the highway 
near its course, we notice the partially filled in and somewhat obscured "ditch," 
crossing and recrossing the road, or having the latter follow the bed or tow-path 
for short distances. Here and there we find a culvert, and in places the 
remains of locks with the lock-keeper's house near by, still in good repair and 
occupied, as at Granby and Cheshire. The stone-work of the lock at Cheshire, 
near Brooksvale, which was known to the Canal Company as Lock number 12, 
is in almost as good condition as when built — a rare thing to find, for the stone 
has been carted away from most of them for other uses. The course of the 
large feeder built from the Farmington river, and emptying into the Canal a 

Southington, Plain- 
Farmington, Avon, 

lock no. 12. 


little northwest of here, is very plain, and a part of the feeder-dam can b< 
at the river in Unionville. " 

We little realize in these days of railroads, what a problem transportation 
was but a short fifty years ago. Land carriage, by all then known contrivances, 
was too costly, and when the Erie Canal was completed and became successful, 
the problem was considered solved. Certainly nothing could be considered so 
suitable as artificial waterways. Canals were proposed from Boston, Dover, 
and Portland to the Connecticut River, and in [826 there was much talk of im- 
proving the Connecticut River, so as to make it navigable to Barnet, Vermont, 
thus opening to northern New England and even lower Canada, the markets of 
Hartford, New Haven, and New York. 

As this Farmington Canal was put under construction in [825, naturally 
enough, interested parties wanted the traffic to come this way to Farmington 
and New Haven, instead of the river route to Hartford, and much controversy 
ensued. Surveys and estimates were made by both sides, and petitions were 
presented to the Legislatures of Connecticut, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, 

and Vermont, and aid 
solicited from Con- 

We read in the 
histories that the Farm- 
ington Canal was char- 
tered in 1 $2 2, begun 
in 1825, finished as far 
as Farmington in 1S2S, 
to YVestfieid in 1829, 
and carried to North- 
ampton in 1835. The 
canal was begun by 
two companies. The 
Farmington Canal 
Company, from New 
Haven to the State 
ACrLVERT - line, and the Hamp- 

shire and Hampden Canal Company, from the State line to Northampton. The 
companies were consolidated in 1826. Ten years later, they conveyed all their 
rights and franchises to another organization known as the New Haven and 
Northampton Canal Company, on the condition that the latter should assume 
the debts. The original stock was a total loss, and the new company put over 
$120,000 more into the business, but was unsuccessful, owing to the expensive 
repairs necessitated by freshets, a long drought in [844 which suspended navi- 
gation entirely for a time, and the growing competition of railroads. The total 
sum sunk was over one million, three hundred and seventy-seven thousand 
dollars. The cost of construction was considerable, the most expensive item 
being lockage. There were twenty-eight locks in this State and thirty-two more 
in Massachusetts. It was estimated that the cost of building a lock was six 
hundred dollars a foot lift, and as there were h\c hundred and twenty feet rise 
and fall between New Haven and Northampton, the locks alone must have cost 
over three hundred thousand dollars. The remainder of the sum, more than a 
million dollars, was necessary for the building and maintenance for twenty 
years, as the income never came anywhere near paying running expense-. The 
heaviest losses were caused by freshets. Storms would wash away the banks, 
and were often aided by muskrats making the first opening. 



" I remember, " said Sir Philip, "that, at one freshet a boat got through a 
breach into the river at Farmington, broke the tow-line, and reached Avon 
before it was stopped. I have been told that two deacons who had a mill-pond 
in Cheshire, complained about the Canal Company taking water from their 
stream ; something like tradition states that, on dark nights, they took a long 
iron rod and tested the bank, which hence often washed away there, and the 
deacons then had plenty of water to grind with." 

"Almost every one who lived near the canal in the days of its use, has an 
incident to relate. One remembers when his father had loaded a hogshead of 
molasses on his cart, the steers became frightened and ran, the hogshead fell 
off and burst, and the molasses ran into the canal. Another tells about his 
father hitching up the team one nice morning, and saying, ' Boys, I must go 

down to the Basin to-day on 
*mAp* very important business, and, 
after you've hoed that seven- 
teen-acre field of corn, you 
can dig post-holes until chore- 
time. I may not be home 
till after dark,' going away 
without any pangs of con- 
science for the tasks imposed, 
for a quiet day's fishing. 
One man relates how the 
families from Plainville went 
to church by boat to Farm- 
ington, and while the old 
folks were singing psalms in 
front, the boys were trolling 
for bull-heads and catching 
pollywogs from the stern. 
Some will tell you how well 
they remember hearing the 
horn and going out to see 
them unload freight at the 
stations. Perhaps they had 
made the trip from up in the 
country, to New Haven on 
one of the packet boats. 
They could go from Plain- 
ville to New Haven in a day 
and made three round-trips a 
week from Northampton to 
New Haven. I well recall the time when we schoolboys would rush up to the 
storehouse, after a boat had left some freight. It was often sugar or molasses, 
and we each had a spoon. Sammy Jones was an active boy, usually the first. 
His motto of the early bird and the worm was verified, once, for instead of 
sugar he found out that it was fertilizer ; he found it out after his mouth was 
full. The boys learned to swim in the canal in summer, and there was usually 
enough water left in it, in the fall, to freeze and furnish skating in winter. " 

"We can imagine the interest which the people in the vicinity took in their 
only means of freight transportation to tide water. The towns along the route, 
Granby, Simsbury, Avon, Farmington, Plainville, and those further south 
thought their era of great prosperity had come and made preparations. It did 


week between these places and one round-trip 



help Avon trade, but was not of so much benefit to Farmington, because Plain - 
ville was nearer to the surrounding population of Bristol and Terryville, and 
took that trade. 

"When the canal was opened to navigation, the interest was intense all along 
the line. Bonfires and other manifestations proclaimed the event. One who 
remembers the scene in Farmington writes the following: ' Major Dickinson 
was captain of the James Hillhouse, the first boat on the Farmington (anal. 
When the boat went up the canal, all Farmington turned out to sec the won- 
derful sight. On the bridge, at the north end of the town, among many others, 
stood old John North, then some eighty years old; as the boat came along, 
horses covered with ribbons, flags flying, band playing and guns banging, Old 
John North lifted up his hands and said, 'My God, what would our fathers have 

'.; * ; - 

Said one old 


From a painting by G. A. Reckard. 

said ! ' The scenes and excitement were similar at all points. 
lady, ' Who'd a-thought of a boat going across the great plain ! 
regarded by some as the fulfillment of a prophecy made by a foolish fellow who 
had some years before insisted that the Connecticut River would some time 
come down through here. " 

But in spite of the money expended, the help from the city of New Haven, 
which voted to pay the company three thousand dollars per year for the use of 
the water, and the Mechanics Bank of New r Haven subscribing to $200,000 
worth of stock under a condition of their charter exempting them forever from 
taxation, the Company finally decided that the only way to save its property 
from utter loss was to build a railroad upon the line of the canal, and thus save 
grading and acquiring a new right of way. The plan was to build the railroad 
to Plainville and use the canal temporarily the rest of the way; so a few boats 
were left at Plainville and above. 

The railroad was begun in January, 1847, an d finished as far as Plainville 
in January, 1848, but the boat plan did not prove feasible and only a few trips 
were made. Then the boats were sold to the farmers, for small sums, and used 
for chicken-coops and storehouses. The revenue derived from the sale of these 
boats must have gone to swell the proceeds of the sale of the hay from the 
banks and the muskrat-hides — said to be the only sources of profit to the 


Company. The toll collected from private boats, and the freight receipts of 
their own boats were small, compared with expenses, and they could not hope 
for much, if any, passenger traffic on account of slowness. Just think of spend- 
ing a week to go from New Haven to Northampton and back, — on urgent 
business ! It must have been in gentle sarcasm that they referred to the 
" Raging Canawl" and named one of the boats "Wild-fire." "The Rising; 
Sun," "Ceres," and " Henry Farnam " were other names. The " James^Hill- 
house " was built in Farmington, in Pitkin Basin, west of where Miss Porter's 
house now stands. Some of the first boats were built in Clinton. 

And yet those times, between 1825 and 1828 were not so different from 
the present. All was stir and energy. Men were digging " the Big Ditch ; " 
they were building bridges for the property owners, while the latter were build- 
ing the fencing; for the charter compelled the Company to furnish a bridge to 
every one who owned land on both sides of the Canal. So each man had his 
bridge, many of which were seldom used. The land owners built the fences as 
the cost of them was supposed to be included in the damages allowed by the 
commissioners. And men and teams in this vicinity were busy for some time 
carting stone, — probably from the red-sandstone quarry east of Farmington 
depot, — for these piers and abutments. At other places they were building 
the locks. 

" It was a big undertaking, " continued Sir Philip. " The price of land 
jumped right up, similar to the booms now-a-days when an electric road starts 
through the country. But, alas ! for those l best laid plans of mice and men ! ' 
The general public favored the Canal and opposed the railroads, predicting the 
failure of the latter. What is now the Consolidated railroad had the most bitter 
opposition to overcome at the start. It would never pay, was the general ver- 
dict. But there was money in the Canal. So there proved to be : over one 
and one-quarter million of dollars in it, and no one able to get it out. The 
Consolidated road, I believe, is still able to keep going in a modest manner, and 
the old, once new, Canal has passed away. Well, boys, how would you like to 
have taken a vacation trip on the Canal? " 

" First rate, " said John. 

But Huggins only murmured abstractedly, 

" The moon in gentle radiance shone, 
O'er ruined pile and armed tower, 
O'er lowly roof and lordly bower, 
And danced upon the Farmington. " 

Ah! Huggins was dreaming again, or thinking of — who knows? Visions 
of a moonlight night and congenial company are apt to inspire poetic thoughts. 

(to be continued.) 




In heredity and environment Darwin finds the evolution of man. The 
influence of environment works slowly and with continually diminishing force ; 
while heredity, being the sum of the accretions of uncounted centuries and 
tending constantly to greater fixity in its forms, is well nigh omnipotent in the 
determination of individual character. Darwin's theory is that: 

" Gemmules of innumerable qualities derived from innumerable ancestral sources, circulate in the blood 
and propagate themselves generation after generation. The vastly greater number remain undeveloped, for 
want of favorable conditions and by reason of the overmastery of the more potent in the struggle for points 
of attachment. Hence there is a vastly larger number of capabilities in every human being than ever had 
expression, and for every patent element there are countless latent ones — the latter counting for naught as 
to the individual. " 

This theory explains that strange phenomenon called Atavism, which is 
forever playing hide and seek in human organisms, — the recurrence of remark- 
able traits or peculiarities of remote ancestors, skipping over the intermediate 
generations, like those streams which sink into the soil and again come to light. 
There are, however, those who cavil at birth-right as a means of determining 
capabilities of a given rising generation or individual of such generation. Even 
so profound a thinker as Thomas Carlyle, in Sartor Resartus, says, "In a 
psychological point of view it is, perhaps, questionable whether from birth and 
genealogy,. how closely scrutinized soever, much insight is to be gained. It is 
a wise mother that knows her own child. " 

The theories and speculations of Darwin, of Galton, of Herbert Spencer, of 
Ribot, and others which have been widely circulated among the masses, are too 
well known to need extended mention. According to Galton, we may anticipate 
from the same strain of blood other minds and characters of exceptional power 
and dignity in the future, whenever the necessary conditions shall exist. 

" Man's natural abilities are derived by inheritance under exactly the same 
limitations as are the forms and physical features of the whole organic world, " 
is the axiom laid down by Galton ; while Ruskin supplements it with this senti- 

" Both moral and physical qualities are communicated by descent far more than they are developed by 
education and there is no ascertained limit to the nobleness of form and mind which the human creature 
may attain by persevering obedience to the laws of God respecting birth and training. " 

"How shall a man escape from his ancestors?" asks Emerson. Like 
begets like; the renal calculus of Montaigne, the historical instinct of St. Simon, 
are well-known instances. Victor Hugo says, "The good humor of Louis XVII 
was inherited from Henry IV. " In a school of thirty boys at Stratford-on- 
Avon, William Howitt easily identified "the Shakespere boy" (a descendant of 
Shakespere's sister) by his likeness to the portraits and busts of the poet. " To 
come of respectable parentage \s prima facie evidence of worth, in a belief, as in 
a person, " says Herbert Spencer. 


Man's traits of all evil sorts come mainly from inheritance, and the most he 
can do is to accept the Divine helps and make himself what he may be. Men 
are like trees ; all are trees, but some are pine, others oak, and still others crab- 
apples, and so they will always remain. Traits of character are not discovered 
until a man is old enough to look within and discover what he is. In childhood 
he suspects nothing and is happy, yet heredity is doing its work. Stripped of 
hereditary drawbacks, man with his experience of troubles in life here will be 
better off in the life to come than if he had been born an angel ; he will thereby 
better preserve his personality, and be known by his trials here, in the other 

Rev. A. J. Gordon, in a sermon at Princeton College, the alma mater of 
Aaron Burr, said ; 

" When I was here before, I went into the grave-yard and saw close together the tombs of Jonathan 
Edwards and Aaron Burr; and it set me thinking of the vast gulf between those two careers, one of the 
seraphic life of a soul whose intellect and affections were aflame with Divine love and holiness; the other, 
estranged from God, going on from sin to sin till his hands were imbrued in the blood of murder. " 

And yet these two were of the same blood descent. It is wonderful, says 
a late writer, how much of the grace and culture of American society has sprung 
from this root. The same pursuits, continued generation after generation in the 
same families, originally set apart by nature for a chosen work, has resulted in a 
heritage of confirmed aptitudes, enlarged mental capacity, delicacy and refine- 
ment of physical organization, manners, sentiments, and tastes : a sort of 
" Brahmin caste in New England" as Dr. Holmes puts it; of which the Edwards 
family forms a considerable proportion, and in which it holds a high rank. 

Let us trace back the ancestors of Jonathan Edwards and of his grandson, 
Aaron Burr, and endeavor to discover a similitude of tastes and of strains of 
blood to produce two such dissimilar characters. 

On the paternal side, Jonathan Edwards' father was Rev. Timothy Edwards, 
son of Richard, the son of William the emigrant, who was said to be son of a 
Rev. Richard Edwards. Rev. Timothy Edwards was for over fifty years pastor 
of the church at East Windsor, Conn., and married Esther, daughter of Rev. 
Solomon Stoddard, son of Anthony Stoddard, of Boston, by wife, Mary Down- 
ing, of notable antecedents. Rev. Solomon Stoddard was pastor of the church 
at Northampton, Massachusetts, and married Esther, daughter of Rev. John 
Warham, and the widow of Rev. Eleazer Mather, his predecessor at North- 
ampton. * 

Anthony Stoddard of Boston, his father, married Mary Downing, daughter 
of Emmanuel and Lucy (Winthrop) Downing, and sister of Sir George Down- 
ing who was called " An arrant Downing. " Lucy Winthrop, the mother, was 
daughter of Gov. John Winthrop of Massachusetts. 

Rev. John Warham was from Exeter, England, and was pastor of the 
church at Windsor, Conn., where he died in 1670, afflicted with melancholia, — 
perhaps a sign of insanity, and perhaps not, but at any rate a strain of idiosyn- 
cracy in the blood of the Edwards family. 

The Congregational Church of Windsor, which has proven its claim time 
and again, to be the oldest society of the kind in this country, excepting the 
churches of Plymouth and Salem, had for the first thirty-five years of its exist- 
ence the godly John W^arham as its spiritual teacher. As originally organized 
and perfected at Plymouth, England, in 1630, prior to their departure for Dor- 

* Among the descendants of this distinguished lineage may be named: Rev. Timothy Dwight, D. D.; Judge John 
Trumbull, LL. D.; William Williams, signer of the Declaration of Independence; Hon. John Sherman of our day; Rev. 
Samuel A. Worcester, D. D.; ex-president Woolsey of Yale; Rev. R. S. Storrs, D. D.; Stoddard, the missionary; "Grace 
Greenwood; " "Susan Coolidge; " Elizabeth Stuart Phelps- Ward; Bishop Williams; the Rev. Dr. Todd, of New Haven, and 
many others, in male and female lines. We are indebted largely for genealogical and other data herein to the venerable geneal- 
ogist, Geo. Frederick Tuttle, of New Haven. 


Chester, Mass., whence they moved in a body to Windsor, Mr. John Maverick 
had been chosen as Mr. Warham's colleague, but he died before their removal 
from Dorchester. Mr. Warham was thoroughly identified with the material 
development of Windsor, established the " Old Warham Mill" and dealt largely 
in real estate in the infant years of the Colony. He was of a strong, active tem- 
perament, but given to melancholia, perhaps through dyspepsia, or mayhap real 
mental aberration. In reference to this matter Cotton Mather in his Magnalia, 
throws a strong side-light upon the minister : 

" I suppose the first preacher that ever preached with notes, in our New England, was the Rev. War- 
ham, who though he was sometimes faulted for it by some judicious men who had never heard him, yet 
when once they came to hear him, they could not but admire the notable energy of his ministry. But ! 
have one thing to relate concerning him which I would not mention, if I did not by the mention thereof 
propound and expect the advantage, of some that may be my readers. Know then that though our Warham 
were as pious a man as most that were out of Heaven, yet Satan often threw him into those deadly pangs of 
melancholy that made him despair of ever getting thither. Such were the terrible temptations and horrible 
buffetings undergone sometimes by the soul of this holy man that when he has administered the Lord's 
Supper to his flock whom he durst not starve by omitting to administer that ordinance, yet he has forborne 
himself to partake at the same time in the ordinance, through the fearful dejections of his mind, which per- 
suaded him that those blessed seals did not belong to him. The dreadful darkness which overwhelmed this 
child of light in his life did not wholly leave him till his death. ' Tis reported that he did even set in a cloud, 
when he retired into the Glorified Society of those Righteous ones that are to shine forth as the Sun in the 
Kingdom of their Father, though some have asserted that the cloud was dispelled before he expired. " 

Mr. Warham died in 1670 leaving a large estate over which his heirs con- 
tended for some time, and the Court could not decide which of the three wills 
he left was valid ; so his estate was distributed " according to law. " Mrs. War- 
ham died worth considerable property, several years later, and had impatient 
relatives who awaited her death ; her will was a peculiar compilation made by 
these relatives and showed her to be of penurious and peculiar disposition ; she 
declares " that she had formerly given her Cousin, Miles Merwin, such a Multi- 
tude that if she had thousands she would not give him a penny. No not a 
pinn's poynt;" she further said that "things were so with her now in regard to 
her long sickness and expense thereupon that she could not tell whether she 
had anything to give away. " 

The origin of the Edwards family is veiled in obscurity, so far as the remote 
ancestors of the American family are concerned. Burke, the heraldist, mentions 
two Edwards' families of Welsh origin, one of which bore on their arms the 
Welsh motto: " Heb Dduw Dwim Dww Adigon, " which translated means 
" Everything with God, Nothing without God. " The above motto seems 
doubly significant as applied to the American line, with its distinguished repre- 
sentatives. But the story or tradition of the Rev. Richard Edwards is doubted 
by Rev. I. N. Tarbox, a late acute authority, who considered him " too shadowy 
a personage for history. " 

The original Edwards attained little prominence in this country, and only 
in his son, Richard, did the family assume any prominence in its early history, 
prior to Rev. Timothy and Jonathan. Richard, only child of William and 
Agnes (Spencer) Eawards was born in Hartford in 1647. Richard Edwards 
was twice married; first to Elizabeth Tuttle, or Tuthill, of New Haven, in 1667, 
when he was aged twenty, and from whom he was divorced in 1691, twenty- 
four years later. He married, second, Mary, daughter of Lt.-Col. John Talcott, 
in 1692. Mr. Richard Edwards had by his first wife six children whom he 
recognized as his own ; and one, the first after their marriage, a daughter, of 
whom there is no trace aside from the record of her birth, whom Mr. Edwards 
did not own as his child ; he was fined by the Colonial Court, for fornication, on 
account of this daughter, but earnestly protested his innocence, and the subse- 
quent conduct of the mother would lead to the inference that he was indeed 
innocent of its paternity. Timothy, the eldest son of Richard, seems not to have 



inherited his mother's propensities, being quiet, studious, and later, a firm, 
thoughtful man at maturity. But through him were undoubtedly transmitted 
many traits inherited from her, which cropped out later in his remote posterity. 
The branch of the Tuttle family from which Elizabeth Tuttle came was erratic 
to the degree of insanity, and is so to a certain extent to the present day. This 
family taint was restrained by the strong will and great spirituality and intellec- 
tual vigor of Rev. Timothy and Rev. Jonathan, only to crop out again in renewed 
activity in the son, (Pierpont Edwards,) and the grandson, (Aaron Burr,) of 
the " divine Jonathan, " both of whom were profligate, vicious and licentious. 
Mrs. Richard Edwards' brother was found guilty of slaying his sister, by the 
Colonial Court, and executed ; and another sister was found guilty of killing her 
own son, but through the confusion existing at that time, she escaped the 
penalty of the law, — the trouble arising from the usurpation of Sir Edwin 
Andross, — there being in fact no government that could execute her. The 
plea of emotional insanity, or pure insanity, had not then been favored in the 
early courts. The divorce obtained by Richard Edwards was largely grounded on 
insanity. Martha, daughter of Rev. Timothy Edwards, who married Rev. Moses 
Tuttle, of Granville, Mass., was a woman of a very peculiar disposition, and led 
him an unquiet life. She had two daughters who inherited her peculiarities and 
died confirmed opium-eaters, both unmarried. 



Rev. Timothy 

Rev. Solo- 













Rev. James 


Jonathan Edwards married Sarah Pierpont 

From this rapid summary it will be seen that Jonathan Edwards was ex- 
ceptionally favored in his direct lineage, as he was also in the line of the 
Pierponts into which he married. His father was a minister for fifty years ; his 
maternal grand-father was a minister who married the daughter of a minister, 
widow of another. 

Jonathan Edwards' wife was the daughter of a minister, and grand-daughter 
and great-grand-daughter of others, in the Hooker line. Jonathan Edwards, 
married Sarah Pierpont, the daughter of Rev. James Pierpont, second pastor of 
the church at New Haven by his wife Mary, the daughter of Rev. Samuel 
Hooker, who was son of Thomas Hooker, the founder of the Connecticut 
Colony at Hartford, and called the " light of the Western churches. " So that, 
on his mother's side, Aaron Burr came of a strong clerical strain, and of emi- 
nently good blood. Rev. Samuel Hooker married Mary, the daughter of Captain 
Thomas Willett, a leading spirit in the settlement of Connecticut, and a sort of 
Miles Standish in that Colony, giving a martial tinge to the blood, added to the 
valorous and brave Thomas Hooker's strain. * 

* Capt. Willett, was of the Leyden Pilgrims at Kennebec where he was sent as agent of the trading house, by the 
Plymouth Colony; he succeeded Miles Standish, 1647, as commissioner of the military company at Plymouth and became an 
assistant to the Governor, i66i-'65. He was afterwards twice or three times Mayor of New York, and died in 1674, aged 64; 
his grandson, Francis Willett, was prominent in Rhode Island, while his great-grand-son, Col. Marinus Willett, was like him- 
self, Mayor of N. Y. City. Capt. Thomas Willett, married Mary Brown, of Rhode Island, daughter of " the worthy John 
Brown, esquire, " ( ancestor of Capt. John Brown, whose " soul goes marching on. ") So that it will be seen that a certain 
dominant strain of blood and martial ardor distinguished her ancestry, together with great tenacity of purpose and aggressive 
ideas and practices. 


Rev. James Pierpont was son of John Pierpont who lived in Roxbury, (the 
ancestor of John Pierpont the poet, the Hon. Edwards Pierpont and all the Con- 
necticut Pierponts, a notable family to-day.) John Pierpont married Thankful 
Stow, daughter of John Stow of Maidstone, Kent, who was nearly related to the 
Antiquary Stow, the "man of infinite remembrance." This John Stow came 
over, in 1631, to Roxbury, Mass., and married Elizabeth Bigg, the daughter 
of Rachel Bigg whose will is among the first recorded in Boston records, a 
descendant of an ancient family in Kent, located there before the Conquest, 
which has held its own for over one thousand years. 

John Pierpont was son of James Pierpont, of Ipswich, Mass., descended 
from an ancient family whose founder came over with the Conqueror, one 
branch of which attained to the Dukedom of Kingston. The Pierponts were a 
simple, sturdy stock, and not notable in clerical or martial lines. 

The children of the Rev. Timothy Edwards (and of Jonathan as well) 
were widely noted for fine forms and features, which came, tradition says, to the 
Edwards lineage from the Stoddards. They inherited their clear, fine, expres- 
sive features from their mother, Esther Stoddard, taking their physical and in a 
great degree their mental proportions from her. Her son, Jonathan, was nearly 
six feet high, and her ten daughters used sometimes to be spoken of as " Mr. 
Edwards' sixty feet of daughters;" an exaggerated statement, although they 
were remarkably tall. The descendants of all the daughters so far as we can 
learn, were tall, finely-formed men and women, inclined to be spare and some- 
what angular, akin to their uncle Jonathan in this respect. 

The sisters of Jonathan Edwards were well educated and " early pious, " 
their minds disciplined by classical studies, and possessing many of the accom- 
plishments upon which our modern belles pride themselves. Specimens of 
their drawings, paintings, and needle-work still remain, — rather stiff to be sure, 
but looking probably as well as will the fancy articles of our daughters to the 
third and fourth generation of their descendants. Better remembrances, how- 
ever, exist in the influences which they exerted upon the families into which 
they were transplanted, upon the children which they nurtured, and which is 
still felt by their descendants at this hour. They married into the best families 
in the Eastern States and brought to their husbands the richest dower a wife 
can bring — piety, refinement and intelligence. 

An early attachment was formed between the college tutor, Jonathan 
Edwards, and the beautiful daughter of the New Haven pastor, Rev. James 
Pierpont ; yet we hardly ever think of Jonathan Edwards as a youthful lover 
beneath the sighing elms of New Haven, nor of the accomplished Sarah Pier- 
pont as a bashful bride. Her wedding dress was handed down as a relic to her 
grand-daughter, corresponding with our ideas of the plain and simple vestments 
of our Puritan ancestors ; and we can look upon her portrait still and fancy how 
the bride of 1727 looked in her bridal outfit, as she plighted troth to the 
embryo metaphysician. Her dark hair was parted plainly on her forehead, her 
dark eyes hid by long lashes, her cheek pensive and yet mantled by varying 
color, as she stood slight and youthful, before her father, to receive the nuptial 
and parental benediction. Edwards we can see with his calm features, his high 
intellectual forehead, and his quiet reserved manner. At this wedding probably 
met the Hookers, the Mathers, the Stoddards, the Davenports, and many more 
of the descendants of the first Colonists, connected either by blood or marriage 
with the two families. There was the father of President Edwards, a man of no 
mean note, and a scholar and Christian gentleman ; there was the mother, a 
woman, refined, dignified, superior to her husband in intellectual endowments, 
and commanding at once affection and respect. The bride's father, the popular 


and pious Pierpont, of course officiated, and we can not forget the mother, of 
no less patriarchal lineage — the grand-daughter of the venerable Hooker of 
Hartford, (who had led his flock from the shores of the Atlantic to the healthful 
Connecticut valley, through the untrodden wilderness, with his wife, tradition- 
ally the daughter of Davenport, his first bride, carried this long distance in a 
litter to survive her nuptials only six weeks.) This latter bridal was no less 
auspicious — for it was the union of two equal in circumstances, similar in 
habits, of the same faith and principles : he, calm, dignified, studious, with a 
tinge of constitutional melancholy ; and she a creature of light and gladness, 
warmth, affection, and buoyancy which rose above every care. From the record 
which her contemporaries have kept of her, from the manner in which her 
husband speaks of her, from the traditions still remaining among her descend- 
ants, she may be regarded as the model of a virtuous wife and mother ; she 
relieved her husband from all domestic care ; she instructed her children ; 
she cheerfully met all the claims which a large> congregation made upon the 
time and patience of a minister's wife ; and she gracefully dispensed the liberal 
yet simple hospitality which the New England pastor still delights to show. 
Herself a model of conjugal deference, the spirit of filial reverence was early 
instilled into her children ; and we can testify to the respect and veneration 
which their children, when themselves aged and feeble, still looked back upon 
the parents from whom they derived their being. They were taught to rise 
when either of their parents entered the room ; never to sit while their parents 
stood, and however they might be engaged in conversation, to stop and remain 
silent while their parents spoke. Such habits would exert a powerful influence 
on a family. These forms are rapidly passing away from our family govern- 
ment, and in but a few do traces still remain. But it has been thought that the 
principles by which our ancestors regulated their families were too rigid, that 
they exacted too much, and infused into the minds of their children rather a 
servile fear than a wholesome veneration. It might have been so, and the 
family of President Edwards was not altogether an exception ; there have been 
those among his immediate descendants who have felt that the parental influ- 
ence was not so happily exerted as it might have been had the children of the 
family come more into familiar contact with their parents. The great secret of 
domestic influence seems to be to unite firmness with authority and affection 
with kindness, and thus secure both the respect and love of the child ; but this idea 
was not a part of the dominant doctrine of Jonathan Edwards, the rigid discipline 
which he inculcated, perpetuated even to the present day and generation. 

With every abatement which we may be required to make, we may still 
believe that Mrs. Edwards was both skillful and successful in the education of 
her family. The daughters she lived to educate were intellectual, dignified, and 
pious women. One, the betrothed of Brainerd, soon followed him to an early 
grave and rests by his side, without a stone or inscription, as if it were enough 
for her woman's heart to watch over him while he lived and lie by him when 
she died. Mrs. Burr was no ordinary woman, and the mother of President 
Dwight will not soon be forgotten. The sons of President Edwards are not 
unknown ; and although their parents were not spared to complete the educa- 
tion of all their children or witness their conversion, a blessing seemed still to 
follow them ; and their descendants still believe that they yet receive rich spirit- 
ual blessings in answer to the prayers of those who have so long slumbered in 
their graves. As we have known the scattered branches of this family, we have 
been pleased to note common maxims, habits, and principles, which, like the 
traditions of different nations may be traced to one stock, and which originating 
with their pilgrim ancestors, have been handed down from generation to generation. 

(to be continued.) 



How the Living Memory of a Dead Man Detected His Crime." 


" Before he was born he had been living for thousands of years." — Renan at Turgueneff 's Funeral. 

I am wasting with fatal disease. Soon life's candle will have flickered to 
the socket and I shall be — where? Surely, no worse fate can befall me than 
once did, for I (my personality) was annihilated forever before I was born, and 
forevers are equal. I am dying. Yet what of it? To what do the best of us 
amount? We (individually) are here by the merest chance. Of course, the 
race is not. Men are nothing ; man is everything. We are huddled into a few 
paltry summers and winters, but the coffers of humanity are full of glittering 
centuries. If twenty tandem lives ago some Saxon swain had won another maid, 
where would myriads be ? Where would we be ? Fellows fully as good would do 
our little task, but where these beloved, these infinitely precious selves ? W T hy this 
all-absorbing I, this hub of the wheel of the whole, this insulated cogitation, of which 
Proclus says the universe is the statue? If naught, why seem we of such vast ac- 
count? It may be because every man is, in a sense, all humanity, You and I 
are compendiums of all the buried generations, synopses of all the untravailed 
epochs. We began to breathe with Adam, and our hearts will not wholly cease 
to throb till the last of his sorrowing progeny lies down to his eternal sleep. 

I know you do not deem it wise for me to talk. I know the doctor has left 
express word for me not to do so. But it is only a matter of a little while at 
the most. What odds to the man just dead whether he saw twenty or a hun- 
dred springs? There are a few things I wish to say to you. They are not 
so very important, still I would have you know them before I go. Do not 
divulge them, for others of my blood are yet living. I feel that I can trust you, 
for we have been fast friends from the very morning. 

I am a very unique man. You know this. I am sure you will overlook a 
little egotism from the lips of an old friend so soon to be no more. My 
peculiar power lies in my subjectivity. There are two types of introspectors. 
(All men of mind are introspectors. Their ability is proportioned in their 
capacity for spiritual vivisection). One type, like Shakespere, Calderon, 
Moliere, learn all the world out of themselves. The other, of which Poe, Haw- 
thorne and Byron are perhaps conspicuous examples, learn themselves out of 
all the world. To this latter type I belong. I see backwards. Since I have 
made a study of myself, incessant, indefatigable, is it at all unreasonable that 1 
should have learned some things of which others are ignorant, pertaining, it may 
be, as much to them as to me? I am going to tell you a fact, and how I came 
to know it to be a fact. I am very weak. Listen attentively, as neither you nor 
any one will ever know it, should my faltering lips refuse to utter it. 

Now do not deem me out of my head. My mind is fully as sound as your 
own. I have striven to live a pure life. I undoubtedly have done wrong, else 
inconsistent with my humanity, but I never committed a crime. Nevertheless, 
I have suffered remorse. I have suffered remorse for a crime that I never com- 
mitted. I know who did commit it, however. His own living memory detected 
him, after he had been in his grave many years. 


Did you never, perhaps at bustling noon, have a sudden and subtle recol- 
lection of something seeming to have occurred, some time in your career, and 
yet so dim, so vague, it seemed as if it must have been the experience of some 
pre-natal life? Did you never dream of being in places the like of which you 
never saw in your waking hours, and yet they appeared as familiar as if you 
had spent years there? If you have not, you are the first one who has told me 
so. These unrecollected recollections, playing hide-and-seek in the by-ways of 
our beings, Plato would tell you, and Vaughn, and Wordsworth, and many 
minds of poetic cast, that they are the memories of a life we have lived previous 
to this terrestrial one. It is a very beautiful idea, but it has no foundation in 
fact. I will admit that my theory is not so beautiful, but it has this redeeming 
feature — it is based on absolute fact; it is true. I will state it in the form of a 
proposition : These unrecollected recollections, these incomprehensible par- 
oxysms of association, in which something in the heavens above or earth 
beneath reminds us of something we have experienced we know not when or 
where, are fragments of inherited memory. Do you hear me ? Fragments of 
inherited memory. Sleep often materializes these wrecks of remembrance, and 
when in dreams, we visit a familiar place unfamiliar to us, the descended im- 
pression some place (native village, perhaps) made upon some ancestral mind, 
revives for the time. 

I cannot remember when I did not, every few weeks, perhaps oftener, 
dream of being in a little village that I never saw when awake. It was a lovely 
village. I love little country-villages, and. when I see their white church-spires 
gleaming in the blue and green of the summer distance, I am moved to tears. 
I abhor the frightful desolation of populous cities, the spiritual Andersonvilles 
of mighty towns. No fairer place was ever roofed by the inverted blue-bell of 
the sky, yet never, save in great sadness, did I somnambulate gentle streets. 
I had wondered why I should so incessantly redream this town, but, given as I 
was to hypothesizing, could never weave any satisfactory theory. 

I had a conception of the town only in a general way, but one house 
therein I knew to the minutest detail. I had been in every room. It was a 
huge, square, undecorated house, with three front chamber windows, and one 
small attic window above them, in close proximity to the flat roof. To the left 
of the attic window there was a piece of clapboard gone. Strange that an in- 
significant detail like a broken clapboard should be noticed in a dream. I am 
quite sure that we forget not anything. We are coral-reefs of memory, and the 
insects who pile us up are moments. 

Often in the daytime, inexplicable feelings would flash over me, in some 
way related to the dream, and whenever I beheld the moon obscured by a 
cloud, a mood of gloom and remorse possessed me — a feeling of defiant des- 
pair, and a feeling as if I had committed some dreadful act mingled in one. I 
had ever supposed that these experiences were only the taints of insanity that 
haunt even the healthiest and best-balanced minds. 

Until past my majority, no individual took part in my dream. I never saw 
a person in that village until I dreamed one night that I was passing by the 
house. (It was close to the road.) It seemed to be a glorious night in May, 
not far from half-past eight. The air was full of the fragrance of the resurrected 
flowers. The daffodil light of the " sunken sun " and the spiritual azure of the 
zenith were still commingling like the purposes of loving hearts, while the 
lonely only cloud in all the illimitable heavens was saturated with the pure, 
sweet light of the ascending moon, like an innocent heart with the spirit of 
Jesus. Just as I reached the front of the house the cloud passed directly across 
its disk. Simultaneously, a terrific shriek proceeded from the middle chamber 


window directly above me, and a female voice exclaimed, (there was something 
in the tone of voice like mine) " Reginald, you have killed me !" Then, all clad 
in flowing white, she fell from the window at my feet. T caught but one glimpse 
of her features, but enough to stamp their ineffaceable photography upon my 
consciousness. The contour of her face bore a striking resemblance to that 
of mine. Mark this. But I digress. 

Upon waking I tried to formulate some hypothesis as to my diabolical 
vision. It could hardly have arisen from gastric disorders, for my digestion 
was well nigh perfect those days, and I was very abstemious. Then bad 
dreams resulting from bodily ills are usually so incongruous in their extrava- 
gance of horror that their impressions flee with the dark and the stars, but this 
incubus was so consistent from beginning to end that it clung to my conscious- 
ness with all the pertinacity of a noon-day reality. What troubled me most was 
the word Reginald. That was the name of my father, of my poor, dead father, 
who died June 8, 1852, the week before my birth. I had been thinking much 
of him the evening previous, of all my dead mother had told me concerning 
him. I had wondered, in the moonlight, whence he came, what his history, who 
his kin, why silent as a stone about his past, why he came to the town of my 
birth in the night. Perhaps the word Reginald occurred in the dream because 
I had been revolving it in mind before retiring. This was plausible, but I could 
gain no satisfaction therefrom. It would not do. 

Though there was no repetition of the terrible vision, I continued, as usual, 
at intervals, to dream of the same old house, of the chamber windows and the 
attic window above them and the broken clapboard. 

The next autumn — the autumn I was twenty-two — I took a pleasure trip 
into an adjoining State. It was sufficiently leavened with business to cover ex- 
penses, else I could not have taken it. One of the towns that I had to visit 
was that of S . It was off the line of the railroad, and to reach it a hack- 
ride of ten miles was needful. It was a fine region over which I rode, and a 
grander October day never chased the darkness round the world. Nature is 
the most intellectual in autumn, and on that pure, calm, golden day, from the 
archipelago of clouds to the aged flower, from the blue infinity to the gray rock 
that had not moved for an hundred centuries, all things exhaled a beautifully 
awful contemplation. The forests crowning the environing hills ringed the 
horizon with a round sunset. If the soul of Shelley could be made into a day I 
know it would be exactly such an one. The commonplace chatter of the pas- 
sengers, the enervating heat and the snail-like pace of the consumptive steeds, 
tugging us through the dust, had at last lulled me to a semi-doze, when I was 
aroused by hearing a little child of one of the passengers say that we are enter- 
ing town. Looking out, sure enough, there we were, right in the town. Look- 
ing out, I felt my heart leap into my very throat. Why, not fifty feet away, 
loomed the huge, square, undecorated house. There could be no mistaking it, for 
there were the three front chamber windows, the small attic window above them 
in close proximity to the flat roof, and the broken clapboard. I concealed my 
emotion as best I could, although the unwonted pallor of my face drew the 
sympathy of one corpulent, motherly old lady, who sat on the seat beside me. 

Reaching the hotel, I registered my name, and was immediately shown my 
room. I was ill. It is a peculiarity of my make-up that any excitement attacks 
my stomach. I ate no supper, but went directly to bed. There was no sleep in 
my eyes, however. I did not sleep a wink that night, but spent it in feverish and 
involuntary hypothesizing concerning the developments of the previous day. 

Bad things are as transitory as good, and the miserable night at length be- 
came a portion of the past. The morning broke cold and foggy. As I stood 


arranging my necktie, I cast a glance outdoors. — When my eyes fell upon the 
lurid foliage of the maples through the aerial pearl of the fog, a dark theory 
flashed across my brain. Could it be true? If so, it would cast a shadow over 
my future ; but, if so, it would give me a new truth, not new alone to me ; new 
to everybody. I would be the Columbus of it. 

Knowing that the village was the county-seat, after the ceremony of break- 
fast, I went directly to the court-house. Obtaining permission of the proper 
officials, I searched in the records of the town. — On the ioist page of a huge 
volume (I never forget isolated numbers and dates), the very legible writing 
informed me that August 5, 18 18, a son was born to Reginald and Mary Rox- 
dale. My father's name was Reginald Roxdale, and he died in 1852, aged 34 
years ; therefore, I was certain that that son was my father, who bore the first 
name of his father. Making further search, I discovered that, in the year 1840, 
Reginald Roxdale cast his first vote. This must have been that son, as 1840 
would have found him a little past his majority. But how could all this 
account for the hideous dream? 

I returned to the hotel. It was fifteen minutes before dinner was ready. 
Picking up a paper in the bar-room — a local one — I thought I would accelerate 
the moments by browsing in its columns. I began at the first one, looking 
through each in order. At the top of the second column of the editorial page 
was an article entitled, "The Crimes of the County," wherein some rural Gib- 
bon discoursed of the demoniac deeds which had stained the annals of that 
county since its settlement. What do you think was one of the facts that I read? 
This: On a moonlight evening in May, 1846, Reginald Roxdale hurled the 
beautiful Helen Morrison, his affianced, from a chamber window of her home on 

Summer street, in the town of S , from the effects of which violence she died 

the following day, and the criminal fled and was never heard of thereafter. It 
was very plain to me now. My theory was substantiated. I had inherited the 
memory of my father. He had destroyed the beautiful Helen Morrison, and all 
his recollections of the affair, even to the aspects of nature at the time, had 
descended to me. Thus did the living memory of a dead man detect his crime, 
after he had been in the grave many years. 

But the strangest of all is yet to come. The article further described the 
girl. — She was the most lovely of maidens for leagues around. Her hair was 
raven-black. Her eyes were large, and dark and lustrous. Her form was 
slight and willowy. I inquired of an old man who sat near me, whom I took 
for the hostler, if he remembered the event. He said he did, related the cir- 
cumstances substantially as I had read them, and told me he had a picture of 
the unfortunate girl. — He asked me if I was a relative of hers. — I told him that I 
did not know that I was. He said that I looked very much like her. In the 
afternoon, he brought to me the picture. Sure enough, she bore a striking re- 
semblance to me. The general configuration of her head was like mine. She 
had the same Grecian nose, the same development of the forehead between the 
eyes, the same dimple in the chin ! Furthermore, my hair was black, my eyes, 
large and dark, and my form slender. Then the idea flashed across my mind, 
which will be universally true to me until disproven — the first-born of a house- 
hold bears a strong resemblance to her to whom the father should have been 
wedded, the vicissitudes of life preventing ; thus showing that, while the earthly 
nuptials have never been consummated, the spiritual union has. 

But I am very weary, and must sleep a few more hours, before that deeper 
sleep steals over me. Do not divulge my statements. I would that I had 
strength to tell you other weird truths, the knowledge of which must be snuffed 
out with me. 



The old Center burying-ground contains much honored dust, and this 
paper is written in the endea\ r or to call to mind some of these forgotten worthies. 
Thomas Hooker, " the Light of the Western Churches, " lies'there, and his suc- 
cessors in the ministry, 
Stone, Haynes, Foster, 
Woodbridge, Dorr, all lie 
under table monuments, 
in two rows, not far from 
the gate. Near them rest 
two Governors of Connec- 
ticut, John Haynes, the 
first Governor of the Col- 
ony, and Joseph Talcott. 
Governor Leete is also 
buried in the yard, and a 
modern obelisk has been 
erected to his memory by 
a descendant. He was the 
last Governor of the New 
Haven Colony, and the 
first from it, of Connecti- 
cut, elected in 1676. 

As the visitor enters 
the gate he sees before 
him a broken column, 
erected in memory of 
Jeremiah Wadsworth, the 
friend of Washington, and 
the commissary-general of 
our French allies during 
their campaigns. Mem- 
center church. bers of his family lie near 

him. Then there are Stanleys, Seymours, Lawrences, Chenevards, Bulls, Good- 
wins, Whitings, Ellerys, Olcotts, and many other names prominent in Hartford's 

The Wyllyses lie in the center of the ground in unmarked graves, a 
fact significant of family pride quite as much as if they had stones emblazoned 
with heraldic emblems. One of the family is reported to have said that if 



Connecticut could not remember the Wyllyses without gravestones their mem- 
ory might rot ! 

It is needless to say that many stones bear dates between 1660 and 1700. 
The oldest is probably that of Susannah Wolterton, who died in 1662. Among 
the older stones is one bearing the name of John Allyn, who " served his gen- 
eration in the quality of Magistrate and Secretary of the Colony for thirty-four 
years," dying in 1696. "Mr. Secretary Stanley" is also there, whose memory 
has been perpetuated more thoroughly by his recipe for black ink than by his 
modest gravestone. Nathaniel Stanley and John Lawrence, both Treasurers of 
the Colony, sleep^their last sleep here. The Rev. Elnathan Whitman and the 
Rev. Benjamin Boardman, " Big Gun of the Gospel Boardman, " both pastors 
of the South Church, are buried here. 

Lyon Gardiner, the first Lord of Gardiner's Island, is buried here, having 
died while in Hartford on a visit. Other strangers are buried here, as Dr. 


Langrell, who was drowned in the Connecticut River. In those days, when the 
difficulties of transportation were so great, people were almost universally buried 
where they died. Hearses were not introduced until late in the last century, 
and in the earlier days the dead were borne painfully on biers, on the shoulders 
of their friends and neighbors, often over rough roads, to the nearest burying- 

There are many stones in memory of the Lord family, once very prominent 
in Hartford, and still recalled by the name Lord's Hill, bestowed on Asylum 
Hill by old residents even yet. One of the most notable members of the family, 
though not a Lord by birth, was Mrs. Abigail (Warren) Lord, wife of the third 
Richard Lord, who married for her second husband, Rev. Timothy Woodbridge. 
She survived Mr. Woodbridge many years, and was one of the largest land 
owners in the Colony, and an excellent woman of business. 

Among the many table monuments is one to the memory of John Ledyard, 
Esquire, a prominent merchant, and the ancestor of a distinguished progeny ; 
among them, Colonel William Ledyard, murdered by the English officer to 
whom he surrendered, September 7, 1781 ; the brave and dashing Light Dra- 
goon, Thomas Youngs Seymour, who figures prominently in Trumbull's paint- 



ing of Burgoyne's surrender ; and the famous African traveler, John Ledyard, 
who made his first essay in voyaging in a birch-bark canoe down the Connecti- 
cut, from Hanover, New Hampshire, to his grandfather's house on the banks of 
the Little River, in Hartford. 

The remains of many who served their country well in the French and 
Indian wars, and in the Revolution, are in this graveyard, and it would be well 
to do for them what has been done in the old cemetery at historic Concord, by 
the Sons of the American Revolution, for those who fought for independence, 
viz : place bronze crosses, suitably inscribed, at the head of each soldier's rest- 
ing place. 

The yard contains the grave of one of Hartford's literary celebrities, Dr. 
Lemuel Hopkins, not only a skillful physician but the author of clever satires, 
social and political. The most famous of these was the " Echo, " a travesty on 
political and current events, written in collaboration by Hopkins, Dwight, Alsop, 
and Mason F. Cogswell. 

A tall gray slab attracts attention. It marks the grave of the fair Maria 
Trumbull, daughter of the second Governor Trumbull, and the first wife of 
Mayor Henry Hudson, who died at the early age of twenty-one. A contem- 
porary poet thus describes her : 

" Light as the gossamer, with fairy feet, 
Maria moves, with gracefulness replete. 
Artless as truth she seems — and oft bestows 
The modest smile which softens as she goes. " 

All that remains of what was once goodness, bravery, learning, wit, beauty, 
lies here. Does it not behoove us to preserve carefully these relics, and the 
place where they lie, to see that no vandal disturbs the memorials erected by 
loving- hands now dust, and that no desecration of any kind be allowed?* 



Let others sing of states that teem 

With mines in which the gold-veins gleam ; 

Of states that boast King Cotton's reign, 

Or vaunt of iron, coal, or grain. 

Aye, singers, sing; sing as you will — 

Connecticut is my song still. 

Thy sons, oh State, are men of toil 
That praise thy name, and love thy soil. 
They're humble men, yet courage know, 
And at their country's call they go ; 
While bearing arms against the foe, 
The humble man transformed is, lo ! 
Throughout the livelong bloody day 
Leads in the thickest of the fray. 

What state with you dare boast in wealth 
Of strength, ambition, vigor, health? 
What firmer foot has ever trod 
The path that leads from earth to God, 
Than feet of those who showed the way, 
You taught to love, you taught to pray? 

Connecticut owns honest men ; 

Some guide the plough, some hold the pen. 

The world gives some an honored name ; 

Some wear the laurel-wreath of fame. 

Aye, noble state, though others rise 

To dwarf you by their greater size, 

Yet, on the old red, white and blue, 

The brightest star shines out for you. 



A careful appreciative biography of Mrs. Sigourney has yet to be written, 
perhaps it ma}' sometime appear, but it is my light and pleasant task to chat of 
the woman as she appeared to a young friend, to whom she gave graceful friend- 
ship and encouragement. My acquaintance with Mrs. Sigourney began through 
an event conducted by the late Dr. J. G. Barnett, who was her friend and my musi- 
cal instructor. It was Commencement of the Hartford Female Seminar}", June 
25, 1857, and Mrs. Sigourney wrote the words which Dr. Barnett used in the 
program, while the writer of " An Ode to Education " was a young woman who 
felt very much honored to appear associated with the celebrated poetess in the 
musical and literary exercises of the da}". Mrs. Sigourney was very kind in 

praising my effort, and invited me to her 
home. This was the beginning of a very 
precious experience as her devoted friend. 
The man}' pictures extant in various 
publications represent Mrs. Sigourney as 
a rather large woman. She was small, 
dainty, a perfect picture of sweet woman- 
hood — in her own personality, a poem. 
She always wore soft gowns, quite in the 
modern aesthetic style, with rare laces about 
her neck. Her jewels, of which she had 
man}", were choice, not large, but rare, and 
in her taper ringers she usually carried a 
cobwebby handkerchief. 

The carte de visite z elsewhere repro- 
duced, was given to me during one of the 
man}" quiet visits which it was my privi- 
lege to enjoy. It, of course, fails to give 
even a hint of the exquisite tints of her 
complexion, the rare, sweet look in her 
blue eyes, and the soft flaxen curls, which seemed like those of a child, though 
they were then fading into gray. Her iove of dress will be apparent, although 
the awkward "fixing" of the photographist has evidently interfered with her 
pretty, graceful poses, and stiffened up her soft, patrician hands, of which she 
was unaffectedly vain. A sculptor once made a model of her hand, in marble. 
This rested upon a table in the drawing-room. 

She met her friends with a little " curtsy," and ushered them into her draw- 
ing-room with an air which seemed like that of a tiny princess. There was her 
piano, of old-time style, always ornamented with vases of flowers and bits of 
china and glass and silver bric-a-brac, which the women of that time called a 
"clutter," but which would have delighted the taste of a collector of to-day. 

She would always take you by the hand and lead you to her favorite sofa, 
upon which were pretty cushions, in silk and embroider}', for which she some- 
times apologized, as it was not the fashion to "loll" three or four decades ago. 

4 8 


She was a pronounced blonde, with light curls which were always arranged in a 
becoming coiffure. Her hair was surmounted by a cap, in choice lace, and one, 
which was my special admiration, had wide, pink satin strings, which were per- 
mitted to float at either side. 

Her voice was low and flexible, and her language simple, but remarkably 
well chosen. One cannot obtain any correct idea of her charm in conversation 
from the stilted manner which she generally assumed when writing. It was one 
of the literary mannerisms of the day, which she quite discarded in speech. 

To be invited to "take tea" with Mrs. Sigourney was a privilege of which 
any young lady felt proud, and one day in particular remains a most precious 
memory, as I was then enabled to see and know the rare woman as never before. 

Let me give a description 
of the "tea." As we en- 
tered the dining-room I saw 
the table. Daintily, spot- 
less, even shining white, 
was the heavy damask. It 
seemed almost bare to me, 
who was not then used to 
the custom of serving in 
courses, but the silver was 
shining, the china delicate 
and the glass brilliant. She 
bowed her head in silent 
blessing, then the waitress 
presented a salver upon 
which to serve the viands. 
This maid was a colored 
woman of quiet dignity, 
who seemed to anticipate 
every want, to be always 
£ 4 t "alert, but aloof," which, 

airs, sigourney's high street home. Howells says, is the most 

desirable trait in a table waiter. The servant emerged from the shadows of the 
dimly-lighted room, which seemed so quiet and restful to one who came from a 
home filled with childish voices and merry clatter, and placed upon the board a 
silver tureen, from which Mrs. Sigourney — her rings flashing in the candle- 
light — served creamed oysters. After this was removed, came another, more 
massive, of solid silver, which, being, uncovered, showed a delicious dish of 
baked beans, golden brown, and sending forth a most appetizing aroma. The 
poet smiled at me as she served them, saying: " My dear young friend, I have 
always preserved the good old-fashioned custom of having baked beans Satur- 
day night, and I hope you will enjoy them as much as I do." They were baked 
beans idealized, really made poetical by the manner of their serving, and the 
accessories of pickles and sauces, contained in pretty bits of table-ware, which 
greeted my beauty-loving eyes. 

Her pieces of china did not " match;" instead, they were of odd and differ- 
ent design in decoration and shape. It was a revelation, for it had not seemed 
possible to use such things to eat from, any "good housekeeper" considering 
her " set" spoiled if one piece was broken and could not be perfectly repro- 
duced. She gracefully referred to the various bits of rare porcelain, saying they 
were gifts, and telling, in the most fascinating manner, of their social history. 
Then the spoons! I wonder where they are now? — if they have been kept 


together in these days, when our daughters are " collecting" so enthusiastically 
and do tease so witchingly for the rare heirlooms and relics of the past? 

These, with their long handles and queer little bowls, the small tea cups, 
the cream pitcher and sugar bowl, the plates of brown bread and white, the 
succeeding course of quince sauce, raised cake and tiny caraway cookies, the 
whole "tea" seemed so dainty and quaint and "old-fashioned" that it remained 
a memory, of which the minutest details cling to my mind. Now it does not 
seem old-fashioned, but modern, and in the most exquisite taste, and so we 
finally come around again to aesthetic beauty and good taste, which she im- 
ported from the drawing-rooms of England, and made her custom in advance 
of our later education. Could we now possess the brass-mounted, claw-legged 
tables, the papier-mache covered desks and rare, carved cabinets, which furnished 
her rooms, we should be rich indeed, but Hartford people then thought them 
queer, and supposed she kept them only because they had been given to her by 
foreign friends and admirers, not realizing their beauty as she did. 

Mrs. Sigourney had been presented "at court" in England, and among 
her treasures was a diamond bracelet from Queen Victoria. She sincerely ad- 
mired the queen of England, and spoke of her as a good, true "sister woman." 

She was the peer of any queen, a woman who was in advance of her time 
in literary possibilities, in aesthetic taste, in gracious manners and spontaneous 
heartfulness. She was an honor to the little practical commonwealth, which 
was her native state, an ornament and a blessing to the city which became her 
adopted home. Feeling that she may not always have been worthily appre- 
ciated by the young school of litterateurs, and that the present dwellers in 
Hartford should occasionally pause and think of her who left so much that is 
refining and cultivating to them, the writer, who knew and loved her well, offers 
this small flower of memory as a tribute to her matchless personality. 


(From Harper's Magazine.) 

A dialect beyond our ken, 

The accents of an unknown tongue, 
Life speaks, — this world of passing men 
That is incomparably old 
And sad with sinning manifold, 

Yet, with each morning, sweet and young, 

Yea, sweet and young it is, and plain 

Its meaning, — for a girl's light breath 
Outwits the wisdom that has lain 
Long centuries stored in reverend books, 
They doubt and dream; she, by her looks, 
Laughs down the lie of churlish death. 

— Richard E. Burton. 




Dr. Eli Todd, the first superintendent of the Connecticut Retreat for the 
Insane, was for many years settled in Farmington, and before he began to prac- 
tice there, Dr. Theodore Wadsworth was a practicing physician of Southington. 
The town of Farmington, December 12, 1791, "Upon the petition of Theodore 
Wadsworth of Southington and Eli Todd of Farmington, physicians, requesting 
permission of the town to establish and open a Hospital at some convenient 
place within the limits of the town and near the Southington line, which shall be 
approved of by the Authority and Selectmen, for the purpose of inoculating for 
the Small Pox during the ensuing Autumn, w voted to grant said petition. 


On the mountain southeasterly from Farmington, where the trap rock that 
largely composes the mountain itself comes to the surface and slightly projects 
above the surrounding soil, the rock has many inscriptions, representing at least 
sixty-six individuals, together with dates ranging from 1 792 to 1 794. From these 
dates we may infer that the hospital established in pursuance of this vote was 
near this rock. About fifty years ago an intimate friend of Dr. Todd pointed 
out this rock to a son, who is now living and then told him that Dr. Todd's 

* The writer acknowledges his indebtedness to Mr. Julius Gay, Commander Edward Hooker, Mr. Wm. L. Cook, and 
others who have kindly rendered him valuable assistance in the preparation of this paper. 


Hospital was near this rock. There are men now living, who on returning home 
in their boyhood days, after a visit to this rock, remember hearing their father 
tell of incidents of hospital life that happened while he was a patient there. 
Time passed, vegetation flourished, until the rock in its wild seclusion was nearly 
hidden and seemingly forgotten. 

But it was not wholly forgotten ; a few, and only a few now well along in 
years and some who have only recently passed away, have talked about the days 
when their relatives had the small pox there and called to mind the many inci- 
dents connected therewith, how father told of the things that his mother sent 
him and other incidents preserved only in treacherous memories. A few years 
ago that son of Dr. Todd's friend determined to rediscover this rock, although 
he had not seen it for nearly fifty years. His first efforts were unsuccessful, but 
at length he found it, nearly covered with turf which he rolled away, and again 
brought to light many of the hidden inscriptions. Hunters from New Britain 

ar*: .' : f , * - ■ >: . :- A : .,.: ... 


soon found it and the papers were full of many strange conjectures as to its 

Following the old mountain road that runs from Farmington to New Britain 
and passes a little to the east of Will Warren's den, keeping on by the summit 
over the eastern slope of the mountain until about one hundred and fifty feet 
lower than the summit, we come to an abrupt angle where the road turns 
easterly, as shown in our illustration of what is locally known as the "Brown 
Tract. " Elias Brown lived here for many years including the years inscribed 
upon the rock. Here, leaving the road and entering the field through the grassy 
path between the cedars, in continuation of the Farmington arm of this angle in 
the road, passing by the old cellar hole half hidden amid the clustering lilac 
bushes at the right, and continuing on through the bushy pasture, we reach a 
little brooklet in the edge of the woods when the path soon forks, and between 
its two branches is " hospital rock. " Cedar trees were growing on its margin, 
but they have been overturned to peel their masses of roots from the rock in 
order to lay bare inscriptions which nature had concealed. Our view of the 
rock shows some of these overturned trees and the surface on which most of 
the inscriptions appear, although on too small a scale to show the carving. 



The work is mostly well done and appears to have been made by persons 
of tact or by those skilled in the use of hammer and chisel. One of our cuts 
shows a group of six names just as they appear on the rock, and these with the 
name of Edward Hooker also shown by a cut, represent the average style of 
inscription. We also show the name of Salmon Clark in the ground story of 

rWA N 



ILaleb Bacon 

cyrus curris 23 


Anson CurtiV Ace i\ 17<?4- 


the house — like figure which borders it, while John C appears tucked away 

in the attic. John's surname cannot be determined although faint traces of the 
letters after the " C " appear. It is difficult to say whether or not John's name 
is a part of the original plan, but evidently a trespasser left the initials " W. H. " 
with the "W" just outside the roof and the "H" within it, before the word 

Edward Hooker 





"John. " We omit this trespassing H from our 
cut as not belonging to the original design. The 
most elaborate inscriptions are those showing the. 
name of J. Bronson in several forms, two of which 
are illustrated. It is not at all probable that such 
lettering could have been by Bronson himself who was then only ten years old. 
Many other names are duplicated on the rock, both in full and by initials. The 
following is a full list of the names and initials in so far as they are legible, ex- 
cluding duplicates, and all initials that correspond with the full names and ages 
elsewhere given. 

Kesia Allvord, 21. Timothy Arnold, age 12. J. Bishop Andrews, Ae, 

Shubael Brownson, age 9. ]. Bronson, 10 y Sep. 1792. Sophia Bull. Laura Bull. Caleb Bacon, 
age 29, Oct. 1794. 

Cyrus Curtis, age 20, Oct. 1794. Rebecca Curtis, Ae. 25 y. Thirza Curtis, 18. Anson Curtis, age 21, 
1794. Salmon Clark, age 28, 1792. Sally Cowles, 33. T. Cowles, 1794. Claramond Cowles, 16. Rena 
Cowles, 10. Daniel Cornwell. C-. Cowle. Chester Case. Timothy C . John C . 

L. D. D. D. 

Eunice Gleason, 27. Nancy Gleason. 




Enter a ducharfl-fAlu 

Small -Pox Hospital 





Edward Hooker, aged nine, 1794. Sally Hooker. Wm. Hooker, 1792. John Hull, 23, 1793. Peter 
Hull, age 18, 1794. George Hull. Amos Hull. Nimrod Hull. Amos Hawley, age 20. Aroxcy Hart, 
age 23. P. H. Zenas Hart. 

Amasa K . M. K. S. L. 

William Mathews. Anna Mix, 10, 1794. Betsy Mix, 12. 

Mary A. Norton. R. S. Norton. (Reuben.) Nathan North, 15, 1794. 

M. C. Pitkin. James Richard, age 10, 1794. Timothy Root, age 12. Roxana Root, 18. S. R. 
L. R. 1794. 

Luther Seymour, of Hartford, Ct. 22. Anne Street, 19. A. S. 24. Abigal Scott, age 26. 1794. Norris 
Stanley, age 20. A. Stanley, 1793. J. B. R. Samuel Scott, October 1794. Age 21. P. Stanley. 

Lemira Whitman, age 26. R. W. 16. C. W. Amos Wilkinson, Age 16. 

There are various figures, borders, and embellishments which we can neither 
show nor describe, and the numerals 1 to 35 inclusive are strung in a continuous 

row across the rock, excepting where the rough sur- 
face caused the sculptor to skip a space. For the 
same reason blank spaces appear in many of the 

In these days of vaccination and anti-vaccina- 
tion, inoculation for small pox is not a familiar subject. 
For over four thousand years small-pox was unknown, 
the first known cases having appeared in the sixth 
century. A person once having it is generally pro- 
tected for life against a second attack, but not always, 
as cases have occurred where persons have had it 
three times. Formerly it proved fatal to about one- 
fourth, or one-fifth of all who were attacked. Inocula- 
tion is the introduction under the cuticle of a minute portion of the virus of the 
real small pox, and it is remarkable that when thus communicated the disease 
is far less violent than if communicated by natural contagion, and yet a second 
attack after a person has had small-pox by inoculation is as improbable as in 
cases where persons take the disease in any other way. When taken by inocu- 
lation in some retired hospital, every thing could be 
prepared for, and the physician in charge could begin 
with the proper treatment without waiting for symptoms 
upon which to base a diagnosis and without any liability 
of making a mistake. The mortality was rarely greater 
than one in six or seven hundred, and no doubt, with 
young people as shown by the ages given on the rock, ONE - FOURTH actual size. 
the danger of fatal results was very small. Danger was also largely avoided 
by selecting the cooler months, the heat of summer being one of the condi- 
tions that greatly enhance the terror of the disease. It was for this reason 
that the vote of permit was not to take effect until "the ensuing autumn" and 
that in other permits it was "provided that no person be allowed to take the 
infection after the 12th day of May next." The operation was introduced into 
Europe from the East by Lady Mary Wortley Montagu and was first per- 
formed in London in 1721. 

Probably most or all of those whose names appear on this rock came to 
Dr. Todd's Hospital for inoculation. This was from two to four years before 
Dr. Edward Jenner learned that those who caught the cow pox by the act of 
milking diseased cows, were supposed to be incapable of taking the small-pox, 
and acting on this clue, he performed vaccination upon a human subject for the 
first time in 1 796. The protective influence of vaccination cannot be greater 
than that of the small pox itself, nor that of inoculation, both of which are 
sometimes ineffectual. Mr. Erastus Scott, of Farmington, had small-pox by 
inoculation and when in after years, while as one of the selectmen, he had to look 
after a small-pox patient, he caught the disease again. He recovered, and lived 



many years after this second attack, but he first gave the disease to one of the 
other selectmen, Mr. Stanley, of Plainville ; yet Mr. Stanley had been success- 
fully vaccinated in his youth and in after years he had been repeatedly 
vaccinated with no effect. A vaccinated person having the varioloid may 
communicate by contagion the most virulent form of small-pox. For a 
number of years Dr. Jenner's practice was not looked upon with that favor 
with which it is received by modern school boards, and so, not only in the last 
century, but in the beginning of the present century, the only known preventative 
was by inoculation. 

The dread of the disease was then so great that those who had the means 
were willing to undergo the trials of banishment from society for a time, to take 
small-pox by inoculation, rather than be exposed to its natural ravages. 

It is not probable that this rock marks the site of the hospital which would 
not have been located so near Mr. Brown's house nor even so near a frequented 
public road. This old road was then the only road over the mountain between 
New Britain and Farmington. Mr. Adna Hart of New Britain, now ninety-one 
years old, says he has known the site of the hospital for eighty years. He 
points it out as on a little knoll about one-third of a mile southerly from the 
rock. There are probable traces of a building here and by the brook; a little 
east are plenty of good springs, while all the surroundings indicate that this was 
just an ideal place for a hospital. Although it is now covered with hemlock 
trees of considerable size, it was an open lot when Mr. Hart first knew it. 
Tradition says that there was a flat rock which was the meeting-place of the 
hospital attendants and messengers from the town, who frequently came with 
supplies and to take back messages, and perhaps some convalescent patient. 
One who remembers many incidents of the hospital as told him in his younger 
days, conjectures with reasonable probability that this inscribed rock is the 
traditional meeting-place. September, 1792, is the oldest date on the rock and 
what discharged patient, when waiting for the messengers from town and seeing 
the name J. Bronson inscribed on the banner and emblazoned with the battle- 
axe and eagle, could resist saying to the skillful carver, "please put down my 
name;" and thus, no doubt, if all the inscriptions there could now be read, we 
would find the names of nearly if not all of the patients treated at this hospital. 
From 1 792 to 1 794 may have been the only years that the hospital was in use. 
For various reasons they changed from place to place and there were many 
other places for inoculation. At least three permits to establish such hospitals 
were voted by the town of Farmington within the ten years previous to grant- 
ing the permit for this hospital. 

Various private correspondence shows the existence of such places near 
Farmington in 1798 and 1799. One letter says "Fanny and Julia Cowles I 
believe will come out of the pest house this week a Saturday or Monday." 
Another says "J. Grand, S. W. and L. N. and M. A. S. are going to have the 
small-pox to Ben Sweet's. They are a going to-morrow and Mr. Thomas 
Smith's wife and Col. Norton's wife too. Ben is not a going to take any boys 
or men." A young man writes to a friend that "The young girls here are all 
in the pest house. I have been up to Goat Pasture to see them. They are as 
thick as toads after a rain. Nancy Hooker and Fanny Cowles have it the 
hardest but they will all do well I believe." The writer of this letter must have 
had the small-pox in some way or he would not have dared to make this visit. 
"Goat Pasture" was farther to the north than is our hospital rock. 

Many have supposed that the names on this rock were those who had died 
of the small-pox, but this is a great mistake. Every name on the rock is that 
of a person who was living when the name was placed there. Norris Stanley 


lived to own ships which were captured in the war of 18 12 by Algerian pirates, 
and still later to receive from the United States an indemnity therefor amount- 
ing to a large sum. These names represent the best of families and were mostly 
from Farmington, New Britain, Kensington and Southington, while Luther 
Seymour, the only one whose " residence" appears on the rock, was from Hart- 
ford. They were mostly children and young people, only one age being recorded 
as over thirty and the fact that this person was a woman, indicates that some 
one else put down the name and age. Eunice Gleason is recorded as twenty- 
seven, but she had no reason to conceal her age as she was already a married 
woman. A small-pox hospital would seem a strange place for courtships, but 
I am informed that at least three marriages resulted from acquaintances formed 

Among the living representatives of those whose names appear on the rock 
I may mention Commander Edward Hooker of the U. S. Navy, now of Brooklyn, 
New York, and his brother, John Hooker of Hartford, who married Isabella 
Beecher, both children of Edward Hooker of the rock. His brother William 
Hooker, also of the rock, was the Dr. William G. Hooker who died in New 
Haven Sept. 19, 1850, leaving highly respected descendants. There are many 
others on the list whose subsequent history is more or less known, and which 
may be further pursued with pleasure by those who are especially interested. It 
is also not improbable that by turning back from the rock more of the over- 
growing sod, or by a closer study of the surface now exposed, still other names 
mav be discovered. 




The west wind knows what the birches say, 
And the robins listen every day ; 
You and I, indeed, may never know 
Whether they murmur of weal or woe. 

And who has caught the speech of the waves, 
In the depths of sounding ocean-caves? 
Have the strange wild sea-birds stopped to hear 
A message unknown to mortal ear? 

But, farthest of all, beyond our ken, 
Are hid the unfathomed souls of men ; 
And none there are who may read aright, 
Save He who fashioned in love and might. 


A sunny dawn that lights the field and wood ; 

A village street, a bridge above the brook, 

Whereon a maiden stands, with happy look, 

As one whose thought foreshadows naught but good. 

And this is all — for more I would not pray, 
Since from that time my wistful gaze was bent 
Upon this scene, and rested well content, — 
It has lent grace and gladness to my day ! 



The history of modern anaesthesia has been given to the world by many 
writers, for both medical and literary magazines, as well as through the news- 
papers, in such a careless, ignorant, and untruthful manner, that it is not to be 
wondered at that the public is befogged and uncertain as to who should be 
given the credit and honor as the discoverer. A true and concise statement of 
a few facts, that tell of the discovery, and by whom it was made, will no doubt 
be of interest at this time, as the dental profession of the country has recently 

held commemorative exercises in 
honor of the fiftieth anniversary of 
the discovery, December 11, 1844, 
by Dr. Horace Wells, a dentist, of 
Hartford, Connecticut. 

In looking up the records of 
the centuries we find mention of 
various medicines that have been 
used for the purpose of rendering 
patients insensible to pain during 
surgical operations. Homer men- 
tions the anaesthetic effects of nepen- 
the. Dioscondes and Pliny allude 
to the use of mandragora. Lucius 
Apuleius, who lived 125 A. D., and 
whose works were published in the 
fourteenth century, says that "if a 
man has to have a limb mutilated 
or burnt, he may take half an ounce 
of mandragora wine and whilst he 
sleeps, the member may be cut off 
J without pain. " A Chinese physi- 
cian who lived in the third century, 
named Hoatho, gave his patients a 
preparation of hemp, whereby they 
were made insensible during surgi- 
cal operations. The soporific effects of mandrake are mentioned by Shakes- 
peare, as well as other draughts the composition of which is not given. It is 
on record that the ancient Chinese, Greeks, and Scythians used preparations of 
mandragora and hemp with some success during surgical operations ; but their 
preparation and use were abandoned. For centuries, opium and alcoholic stimu- 
lants were the only agents that the surgeons could rely on, to help their patients 
endure the pain of an operation. 

After the discovery of nitrous oxide gas by Dr. Priestly, Sir Humphrey 
Davy made a series of experiments, the results of which were published in 1800, 
in his volume of " Researches in Nitrous Oxide Gas. " He states that April 11, 





1799, he made his first inspiration of pure nitrous oxide gas, and for a year 
after, he made an exhaustive study of the gas, and also many experiments 
with it, both on himself, and medical and other friends. He states on page 276 
that one day while suffering "pain, caused by cutting a wisdom tooth, he found 
that while breathing the gas, he got relief from pain. He also says that he once 
imagined that the pain was more severe after the experiment than before. On 
the last page but one of his book, he made this suggestion : " As nitrous oxide 
gas appears capable of destroying physical pain, it may probably be used to 
advantage during surgical operations, in which no great effusion of blood takes 
place. " 

The closing paragraph in his book states : " That pneumatic chemistry in its 
application to medicine, is an art in infancy ; weak, almost useless, but apparently 
possessed of capabilities of improvement. To be rendered strong and mature, 
she must be nourished by facts, strengthened by exercise, and cautiously directed 
in the application of her powers by rational scepticism. " Many of the famous 
surgeons of Europe must have been more or less familiar with his published 
work, yet there is no record that any surgeon 
dared to act on his suggestion or that any one had 
confidence enough in his statement to advise any 
sufferer to do so. Sir Humphrey Davy lived for iagH 
many years after the publication of his book, attain- 
ing both wealth and distinguished honors, and it is 
only fair to presume that he did not even think HH 
that he had made a great discovery, for if he had, M 
he certainly would have put it to a trial. 

The anxiety that oppressed the surgeon was 
in no way lessened by the suggestion of Sir Hum- fBH 
phrey Davy, and the dreaded operating day at the || 
hospital often taxed the moral and physical cour- 
age of the surgeon to a greater degree than it did 
the agonized yet hopeful patient that awaited the 
operation. It was only a few years previous to 
1844, that the celebrated French surgeon, Velpeau, "'"lived in^hartford^ 1 
published the following hopeless statement in his 

work on surgery: "To avoid pain under incisions is a chimera, which is no 
longer pursued by any one. A cutting instrument and pain in operative sur- 
gery are two words, which never present themselves separately to the mind of 
the patient; and of which he must of necessity admit the inevitable association. " 
This statement was accepted by many as authoritative and final ; and the few, 
who still hoped that some agent would yet be found that would lessen the 
horrors of surgical operations, were looked upon by the majority of surgeons 
as idle dreamers ; and for this reason, every surgeon was ambitious to rank as 
a rapid operator: "The quicker the surgeon, the greater the surgeon," was 
the professional and popular belief during the first half of the present century. 

Fortunately the number of severe surgical cases are comparatively few, while 
we all know that every member of the human family, sooner or later, must submit 
to having one or more teeth extracted. As the demands for dental operations 
were of daily occurrence, the dental practitioner had constant evidence that all 
patients showed more or less fear and dread of the operation, and the great need 
for some safe agent to give relief, was constantly impressed on the mind of the 

We have the testimony of Linus P. Brockett, M. D., of Hartford, Conn., 
that in the summer of 1840, while conversing with Dr. Wells, he found him 


deeply impressed with the idea, that some discovery, would yet be made by 
which dental and other operations might be performed without any pain. For 
forty-four years medical and chemical professors, and popular lecturers were 
experimenting with the gas ; and not one of them caught the idea, or dared put 
to the test the suggestion made by Sir Humphrey Davy in 1800. 

Professor G. O. Colton gave a course of lectures on chemistry and natural 
philosophy in Hartford, early in December, 1844. To popularize as well as 
amuse the audience at these lectures, the exhibition of the effects of laughing- 
gas on willing subjects was made a special feature of the entertainments. Dr. 
Horace Wells, well known in Hartford as a skillful dentist, attended with his wife 
the lecture given the evening of December 10th, 1844. Dr. Wells inhaled the 
gas : the effect not being as pleasant as his wife wished, for she reproached him 
on the way home for taking it, and making himself ridiculous before a public 
assembly. Dr. Wells went to that lecture to see, hear, and learn. He inhaled 
the gas, and subsequently watched its effects ,011 others. The exciting incident 
to him at the entertainment was when Mr. Samuel A. Cooley, a well-known 
Hartford citizen, gave a lively exhibition of the effects of the gas by running 
and jumping about, and falling, striking his legs against the wooden settees, and 

acting apparently perfectly unconscious of possible 
danger. After the effects of the gas had passed off, 
Dr. Wells asked him if he was not hurt, and he replied 
that he did not know it at the time, but on looking at 
his legs found them bleeding from the injuries he had 
received. Dr. Wells turning to Mr. David Clark said, 
" I believe a man by taking that gas, could have a 
tooth extracted or a limb amputated and not feel the 
pain. " 

Before leaving the lecture hall, Dr. Wells asked 
Professor Colton whether one could inhale the gas, 
and have a tooth extracted without feeling any pain, 
and he replied that he had not given the subject any 
thought, that he had been giving; the laughing-gas for 

DR. G. Q. COLTON. & , , • j i j- «_ • i 

over a year, and such an idea had not occurred to 
him and he could not express an opinion. Dr. Wells said that he was inclined 
to try the experiment on himself, and have a troublesome tooth extracted if he 
would bring a bag of the gas to his office the next day. Late that evening Dr. 
Wells called on Dr. Riggs to tell him of his experience at the lecture, and that 
Mr. Cooley had injured himself and was not conscious of it; adding, " if he did 
not feel pain, why cannot the gas be used in extracting teeth. " A long discus- 
sion followed as to whether it would be right, or safe, for them to make such a 
trial, with possible danger to health and life ; but Dr. Wells was so confident and 
fearless, that he agreed to take the gas and have a tooth extracted the next day 
if Dr. Riggs would perform the operation,. As requested, Prof. Colton the next 
morning brought a bag of the gas to the office of Dr. Wells. There were present 
Drs. Wells and Riggs, and as onlookers a Mr. Colton and Mr. Cooley, the star 
performer of the night previous. 

Dr. Wells sat down in the operating chair, took the bag into his hands and 
at the possible risk of his life, inhaled the gas until he was insensible, when Dr. 
Riggs extracted an upper wisdom tooth. Dr. Wells remained unconscious a 
short time and on recovering exclaimed, " I did not feel it so much as the prick 
of a pin ;" "A new era in tooth pulling. " " It is the greatest discovery ever 
made, " and other remarks of a similar nature, being perfectly delighted with his 
successful experiment. It was at his own suggestion and desire that he deliberately 


took the gas, and its value as suggested by Sir Humphrey Davy in 1800, 
was proved a certainty Dec. 11th, 1844, when the first surgical operation was 
successfully performed on Dr. Horace Wells while under its influence. On that 
day Modern Anaesthesia was given to the world, and nitrous oxide gas proved to 
be a blessing to suffering humanity and the forerunner of all other anaesthetics. 
We have the testimony of Dr. J. M. Riggs, " that we were so elated by the 
success of this experiment that we turned our attention to the extraction of 
teeth by means of this agent, and continued to devote ourselves to this for sev- 
eral weeks almost exclusively." With ample evidence to substantiate his claim, 
a few weeks later, in January, 1845, Dr. Wells went to Boston to make generally 
known and to demonstrate his great discovery. He obtained permission of the 
elder Dr. Warren to address his class in the medical college, and at the close of 
his remarks he gave the gas to a boy and extracted a tooth. The boy made an 
outcry and the students hissed and cried humbug, although the boy on recover- 
ing said he did not know when the tooth was drawn. The first and only trial 
allowed Dr. Wells was denounced as a failure. If the surgeons of the Massa- 
chusetts General Hospital or any of the medical and scientific men of Boston or 
the country ever knew of the suggestion made by Sir Humphrey Davy, they 

evidently had forgotten it, or had no faith in his state- 

Dr. Wm. T. G. Morton had been a student of 
dentistry with Dr. Wells in 1841 and 1842, but was 
living in Boston and renting an office of Dr. Charles 
T. Jackson. These gentlemen tried to dissuade Dr. 
Wells, having no faith in his statements, and advised 
him to give up the use of the gas. Dr. Jackson, noted 
then as a chemist, treated the subject as increduously 
as did the surgeons and students, calling it a hum- 
bug. That a dentist from a country town could 
appear in Boston, and announce to the world that he 
had made such a grand discovery, was not to be 
credited, and Dr. Wells soon learned that not one of 
the influential medical or scientific men of Boston 
^ . Ar „-„„„ could be induced to interest themselves in investigat- 

L>K. J. M. KKjGo. . , .... 

ing the properties of the gas, or to assist him in any 
way while he remained in that city. They preferred to hiss and cry humbug 
rather than to give Dr. Wells a second chance to prove the value of his dis- 
covery. Dr. Wells returned to Hartford, disappointed and discouraged at the 
lack of interest shown by the medical profession and especially at their ignoring 
the testimony which he offered, of reputable citizens of Hartford who had had 
operations performed painlessly, while under the influence of the gas. 

In the Boston Medical and Surgical Journal of June 1 8th, 1845, there 
was an article written by P. W. Ellsworth, M. D., of Hartford, Connecticut, on 
the " Modus Operandi of Medicine," in which he states, "that the nitrous oxide 
gas has been used in a number of cases by our dentists and has been found to 
perfectly destroy pain and no unpleasant effects follow its use." The unjust 
assumption of the Boston surgeons, that he had made a complete failure in the 
single experiment allowed him, and their contemptuous treatment of him and 
his claims gave a set-back for two years to the general introduction of surgical 
anaesthesia, and millions of sufferers were deprived of the use of a safe 
anaesthetic for nearly twenty years. At this time Hartford had no hospital or 
medical journal to push the introduction of this discovery, and for a time Hart- 
ford people alone realized that such a discovery had been made. 


Dr. Wm. T. G. Morton, while studying dentistry, lived in Farmington, 
Conn., and made frequent visits to Hartford as a student to recite to Dr. Wells. 
He was present when Dr. Wells gave his demonstration before the surgeons and 
class in Boston, and had frequent talks with him while he remained in the city. 
During the summer of 1845, ne visited Hartford and called with Dr. Wells on 
Dr. Riggs to talk about the gas and he wanted them to give him some, and tell 
him how it was prepared. Dr. Wells referred him back to Dr. Jackson, who he 
said could prepare it for him, or tell him how it should be done as he knew all 
about it. In the summer of 1846, Miss Elizabeth Williams, of Hartford, met 
Dr. Morton in Stafford Springs, Connecticut ; learning that he was a dentist, 
she told him her experience with the gas and that Dr. Wells had extracted a 
tooth for her on the 6th of March, 1845. He asked her about the effect and 
operation of the gas, and gave no intimation to her that he had any knowledge 
of the gas, or any other anaesthetic. Drs. Wells, Riggs and Terry continued to 
give the gas in their practice with success, and they were greatly surprised, 
when they learned that Drs. Jackson and Morton were heralded in the Boston 
papers, in the fall of 1846, as the discoverers and inventors of a compound which 
they stated, by breathing into the lungs, induced so deep a slumber as to enable 
them to perform the most painful surgical operations with entire unconscious- 
ness on the part of the patient. Dr. Morton made his so-called discovery, Sep- 
tember 30th, 1846, when he extracted a tooth for Mr. Eben. Frost, while he was 
under the influence of his pretended compound. Soon after he called on Dr. 
Warren, who arranged for him to test his compound, on the 16th of October, 
when he made his first experiment at the hospital in a surgical case. Boston 
surgeons were at last convinced that anaesthesia had been discovered, and Bos- 
ton men were the discoverers. The managers of the Massachusetts General 
Hospital were now ready to claim for their institution the honor and credit of 
first demonstrating this great fact to the world, and Boston surgeons, Boston 
newspapers, and the public, were now very much interested and only too ready 
and anxious to assist the assumed discoverers in introducing their pretended 
discovery, and advising its use in general surgery. 

The possible money value that might accrue to them from a vigorous 
pushing of the discovery, set the doctor and dentist to figuring out futures, and 
they decided to take out a patent, which was applied for October 27th, 1846. 
Before the patent was granted, Dr. Jackson, fearing he might be censured, or even 
expelled from the Medical Society, if he took out a patent, made an assignment 
which apparently gave to Dr. Morton all his right, title, and interest in the then 
assumed invention ; but for which act he obligated Dr. Morton to pay him ten 
per cent, of all he made out of it, and later on, through his counsel, he demanded 
twenty-five per cent, of all the profits both at home and abroad, which Dr. 
Morton refused to give. The patent was granted Nov. 12th, 1846, circulars were 
sent out with the names of Drs. Jackson and Morton as the discoverers and 
inventors of a compound that later proved to be the well known fluid, Sulphuric 
Ether. Agents were sent out to sell rights. The doctor, dentist, or anybody 
qualified or not, who would pay the price could buy the right to use this wonder- 
ful and powerful agent. The scale of prices being: for cities of over one hundred 
and fifty thousand inhabitants, two hundred dollars ; fifty thousand and under, 
one hundred and fifty dollars; cities, under five thousand, thirty-seven dollars, 
for seven years, the life of the patent. Soon after there was a bitter controversy 
between the Boston discoverers, and the public then learned that each one 
denied that the other had any just claim for the credit of the discovery. 

Late in the year 1848 chloroform was introduced by Prof. James Y. Simp- 
son, M. D., of Edinburgh, Scotland, and that for a time seemed to supplant 


Sulphuric Ether. Drs. Jackson and Morton from the start had persistently stated 
that nitrous oxide gas was a failure and that it was not an anaesthetic. The 
death of Dr. Wells, January 24th, 1848, left the field open for them, and as the 
new agent, chloroform, was making a successful record, it soon became so popular 
that the use of the gas was given up and by many forgotten. Hartford had no 
medical schools, hospital surgeons of national reputations, or professional 
journals, to compete with Boston, while all these influences were freely given to 
aid the Boston claimants in their attempt to rob Dr. Wells of the honor and 
credit of his discovery. Boston influence aided them in their successful appeals 
to the rich, and the profession for remuneration ; and Boston money helped 
them, in wining and dining a memorable lobby influence in its attempts to get 
through Congress a bill granting them one hundred thousand dollars, for the 
use of their pretended discovery by the Army and Navy. Through the efforts 
of the Hon. Truman Smith, United States Senator, and the members of Con- 
gress from Connecticut, the passage of the bill was defeated. 

The surgeons and the public were soon convinced that chloroform and 
ether were uncertain and dangerous agents. The frequent deaths reported, and 
the ill effects that often followed their use, caused a feeling of dread on the part 
of both patient and operator so that comparatively few cared or dared to risk 
taking or giving either of them. From 1848 until 1863, the longing for a safe 
anaesthetic was universal. Again, Professor Colton appeared before the public 
as a lecturer and exhibitor of laughing gas. In his lectures he related the his- 
tory of the discover}' of anaesthesia by Dr. Wells, and after his lecture in New 
Britain in 1862, he gave instructions to Dr. R. C. Dunham, and he introduced 
the use of gas in his practice there, and in Hartford. Later, Dr. Joseph H. 
Smith, of New Haven, revived the use of the gas in that city, and from that time 
on its use has been general all over the world. It is only those who have had 
to undergo severe surgical operations that can fully realize what a great blessing 
the discovery and introduction of anaesthesia is to the world, and it is only the 
surgeons now living that were in practice over fifty years ago, that can fully 
appreciate and realize the blessing this discovery is to the profession. 

Several years after Dr. Wells had proclaimed and demonstrated his dis- 
covery, Dr. Crawford W. Long- of Georgia, discovered — that he had discovered 
— as early as 1842, the properties of Sulphuric Ether, and had performed an 
operation on a patient while under its inflnence. This information was not 
given to the public until December, 1849. He says, in referring to his delay in 
making the fact known: "I leave it with an enlightened medical profession, to 
say whether or not my claim to the discovery of anaesthesia is forfeited by not 
being presented earlier ; and with the decision which may be made, I shall be 
content." It is possible, that many surgeons in different parts of the world, at 
nearly the same time, or in the remote past, may, with the aid of some agent, 
have performed surgical operations painlessly as claimed by Dr. Long, but 
failing to publicly announce their success, the world gained no benefit. Dr. 
Wells discovered, demonstrated and proclaimed the fact at once ; and then 
within one month's time, traveled over one hundred miles to Boston to make it 
generally known. The public should not be allowed to forget that the simple, 
honest Christian desire of this dentist was to give his discovery to all, to be 
" free as the air we breathe." The motive that actuated Drs. Jackson and Mor- 
ton, when they put their assumed invention on the market, was to get money. 
Its commercial value was the dominant idea, and it was well worked up. Dr. 
Jackson sneaking behind the cover of an assignment of his rights, in order to 
hold his membership in the Medical Society, demanded twenty-five per cent. 
of all the profits, both at home and abroad, from Dr. Morton. This resulted in 



a Kilkenny fight, each denouncing the other as a fraud. A bitter controversy 
followed, each claimant having friends enough to furnish the Medical Journals 
and newspapers with lively reading for years after. 

Dr. James Y. Simpson, of Edinburgh, Scotland, was the only man con- 
nected with the introduction of anaesthesia who had a remarkably fortunate life. 
He was eminently successful in his profession, acquired wealth, was created a 
baronet, and was probably better known all over the world, than any one else 
connected with the discovery. The last professional article he gave to the pub- 
lic was written by dictation, while on his sick bed, in reply to a bitter and unjust 
attack made upon him by Dr. Jacob Bigelow, of Boston. It was published in 
the Boston Gynaecological Journal for May, 1870. He writes: 

"An American dentist works out 

r t -" - -*- — — — — ■- — -— -*tj to its practical results, the suggestion 

published in England half a century 
before, by Sir Humphrey Davy, and 
which you seem to wish to efface from 
anaesthetic records; and he travels a 
long distance to place the important 
result before the Medical School at 
Boston, and some surgeons at the 
Massachusetts Hospital. There is a 
slip in the single experiment allowed 
him. He is spurned and hooted away. 
In doing this, the Medical School of 
Boston thus delays the whole subject of 
artificial surgical anaesthesia for a couple 
of years. Was not the Medical School 
of Boston, then, in your violent language, 
' chargeable with the continuance of 
operative tortures,' for that period 
much more than Sir Humphrey Davy? 
Did not your school stamp out — and 
thus prevent for two years more the 
most beneficent discovery which has 
blessed humanity since the primeval 
days of paradise?' " 

Sir Benjamin Ward Rich- 
ardson says in his recent 
monograph, "The Mastery 
of Pain " : 

" It was fortunate that ether came 
in before chloroform; because if chlo- 
roform had come in first, the number 
of deaths from it would probably have 
put a stop to anaesthesia at once." 

It is infinitely more for- 
tunate that gas came in before 
ether, for the demands for its 
use are more urgent and 
eeneral, and the deaths from 

Inscription. — "Horace Wells, the Discoverer of Anaesthesia, December 

:8 44 . 

it, do not number more than one in over a million. There is no doubt if Dr. 
Wells had been a resident of Boston, an M. D., and a member of the staff of 
the Massachusetts General Hospital, his discovery in 1844 would have been 
quickly accepted. As a stranger and a dentist, his claim as a discoverer, and 
the evidence he had to sustain it, could not awaken enough interest in the 
minds of the stupid, stubborn, and jealous men that he appeared before, to in- 
duce them to make another trial of the gas. They condemned it as a humbug 
and suffering humanity was deprived of the blessing of an agreeable and safe 
anaesthetic for over twenty years. 


The introduction of modern anaesthesia in all its varied modes of adminis- 
tration, is undeniably the result of a dentist's heroic experiment and discovery. 
It is true, that it was two years after the discovery, and after repeated successful 
operations in the hands of Hartford dentists, before Boston surgeons could be 
induced to accept the fact that an anaesthetic had been discovered. 

The record is now well up in the millions of successful operations per- 
formed while under the influence of the gas; and there is abundant testimony 
that Dr. Wells was the first to submit to a surgical operation while under its 
influence. The General Assembly of Connecticut, in 1847, passed resolutions in 
favor of Dr. Wells as the discoverer of anaesthesia and declared that he was 
entitled to the favorable consideration of his fellow citizens, and to the high 
station of a public benefactor. The Court of Common Council of the city of 
Hartford passed resolutions to the same effect. The 
physicians and surgeons of the city of Hartford, united 
in a testimonial declaring their belief in the justice of 
the claims of Dr. Wells. The Medical Society of Paris, 
France, in January, 1848, voted that to Dr. Horace 
Wells, of Hartford, Connecticut, is due all the honor 
of having first discovered anaesthesia. On Bushnell 
Park in Hartford there stands a monument erected by 
the State of Connecticut, and the city and citizens of 
Hartford, commemorating this great discovery of 
anaesthesia first given to the world in Hartford in 1844, 
with the name inscribed and a portrait statue of Dr. 
Horace Wells, to whom alone belongs the honor of the 
discovery. When it was proposed, some months ago, 
to celebrate the 50th anniversary, it was decided that 
there could be no more fitting testimonial than for his 

brother dentists to place a tablet, and mark the very spot where his discovery 
was made. It was fortunate that it could be placed in a most conspicuous 
position, to be a perpetual reminder to the public of the great obligation they 
are under to this dentist. Hereafter no one can visit Hartford without having 
the truth of this discovery brought very visibly before him. In the light of 
recent publications in the magazines, it would seem as if the tablet in this 
respect alone would have a mission. 


The tablet is a fine piece of bronze work from the foundry of Mr. Mossmari, of Chicopee, Mass. It is 
five feet long by twenty-nine inches wide and bears the following inscription : 

To the memory of 


who upon this spot 

December iith, 1844 

Submitted to a surgical operation 


Demonstrated and Proclaimed 

the blessings of 


It is probably the largest out-door Memorial Tablet placed on the front of a public building in this 
country. The committee were very fortunate in their selection of the sculptor, Mr. E. S. Woods, of Hart- 
ford. He has made a beautiful and artistic tablet that will attract for years to come, the attention of all 
lovers of the true and beautiful in art. 

The fiftieth anniversary of the discovery of anaesthesia by Dr. Horace Wells in this city, December it, 
1844, was formally observed by a banquet at Habenstein's cafe. The banquet was given under the auspices 
of the Connecticut Dental Association and was presided over by its president, Dr. Charles P. Graham of 

At the right of the toastmaster sat Governor-elect Cofnn, of Middletown, Dr. G. W. Russell, of this city, 
Dr. G. Q. Colton, of New York, Dr. Henry Barnard, Judge Thos. McManus, and Dr. John Dwyer, of this 



city. On his left were seated Charles T. Wells, John Addison Porter, Mayor Leverett Brainard, President 
(i. W. Smith, of Trinity College, Rowland Swift, and Dr. C. C. Barker. 

The divine blessing was invoked by President Smith. An elaborate menu was served. 

As it was necessary for him to take the 10:05 train for home, Hon. ( ). V. Coffin made a brief speech 
thanking the members for their kindness in sending him an invitation and congratulating them on their 
worthy enterprise. Cheers were given as the governor-elect left the room. 

President Graham in opening the post-prandial exercises referred to the beneficent effects on humanity 
of Dr. Wells's discover}-. He introduced the several speakers of the evening in a felicitous manner, who 
were Mr. Chas. T Wells, the only living descendant and son of Dr. Horace Wells. Mayor Leverett Brainard, 
Dr. C. C. Barker, of Meriden, President of the Connecticut Valley Dental Society, Dr. G. Q: Colton, of New 
York, eighty-one years of age, and who as a young man was associated with I )r. Wells at the time of his 
experimenting fifty years ago. He retold the story of the discovery. Dr. G. W. Russell, Dr. P. W. Ells- 
worth, Dr. H. P. Stearns, superintendent of the Hartford Insane Retreat, President G. Williamson Smith of 
Trinity College, Henry Barnard, LP. I )., Judge Thomas McManus, and Mr. E. S. Woods, the sculptor. 

Dr. James McManus referred to the sincere regret of all that Dr. Parmele was unable to be present. 
" Up to this noon he expected to be with us but to-night he was unable to come out," he said. " He has 
worked hard to make this movement a success and it is a great disappointment to him not to be with us 
to-night. To-morrow the anniversary will be celebrated at .Philadelphia where three dental colleges will 
participate. The formal celebration will he held there, hut this banquet to-night is the introductory celebra- 
tion of the anniversary. The tablet that has been erected has been provided by only practicing dentists and 
the contributors are located all over the country from Portland, Maine, to Portland, Oregon. The erection 
of the tablet is no local act, but is a friendly tribute from the entire country. 

President Graham then read telegrams and letters of regret from Governor Morris and Lieut.-Gov. 
Cady, Senator Joseph R. Hawley, Maj.-Gen. Wm. B Franklin, Chas. J. Hoadley, LL. D., Hon. A. E. Burr, 
Charles Dudley Warner, Col. A. A. Pope, Richard Burton, Dr. C. T. Stockwell, of Springfield, Mass., Chas. 
Hopkins Clark, and Col. Samuel A. Cooley, at the conclusion of the speeches. 

Dr. James McManus moved that the tablet be presented to the city of Hartford and the members voted 
unanimously to make the presentation. After a rising vote of thanks had been extended to Sculptor Woods, 
the party marched up Pratt street and down Main, stopping in front of the building of the D. F. Robinson 
estate on which the tablet is erected. Here at 12:40 o'clock Sculptor E. S. Woods cut the cord that 
upheld the veil and the son of Dr. Wells, Charles T. Wells of this city, unveiled the tablet. 

Dr. James McManus in a brief and fitting speech presented the tablet to the city, and Mayor Brainard 
made a patriotic response accepting the tablet in behalf of the city and assuring the Connecticut Dental 
Association of the approval of his action by the Common Council. The unveiling and presentation to the 
city at this hour of the night made the scene extremely impressive. The party then broke up after a hearty 
clapping of hands at the completion of the enterprise. 


The committee for arranging all details for the memorial tablet and the dinner were : Dr. George L. 
Parmele, chairman; Dr. James McManus, treasurer, and Dr. Civilian Tones. Others present at the banquet 
were: John Addison Porter, Dr. William J. Rider, dental commissioner, of Danbury; Dr. R. Wentworth 
Browne, commissioner of New London; Dr. James McManus of Hartford, Dr. Edward S. Gaylord of New 
Haven, Dr. R. C. Dunham of New Britain, Dr. N. Morgan of Springfield, Dr. George A. Maxfield of Hol- 
yoke, Dr. L. C. Taylor, Dr. Charles McManus, Dr. Henry McManus, Dr. N. J. Goodwin, Dr. Joel F. Wright, 
Dr. A. E. Wales, of New Britain, Dr. Monroe Griswold, Dr. Edward Eberle, Rowland Swift, Ernst Schall, 
H. C. Ney, R. A. Wadsworth and Dr. John Dwyer, all of this city; Dr. Alfred Fones, of Bridgeport, Dr. 
Daniel A. Jones, of New Haven, Dr. William IT. Rider, of Danbury, Dr. E. M. Smith, of Newtown, Dr. J. 
Tenney Barker, of Wallingford, Dr. G. M. Griswold, of Manchester, Dr. F. W. Murless, Jr., of Windsor 
Locks, and Dr. M. M. Maine, of South Manchester. 

The stranger visiting Hartford or passing through on the cars from the 
south, is attracted first by the massive and beautiful buildings of Trinity College, 
the towers of St. Joseph's, one of the most beautiful and grand specimens of 
cathedral architecture on this continent, and the gilded dome of the State 
Capitol building on the heights of Bushnell park. The statues of historic men 
on the east front of the Capitol, and the bas-relief pictures of early incidents in 
the history of the state ; with the statues of Nathan Hale, the martyr spy of 
the Revolution, and Wm. A. Buckingham, the war Governor, during the re- 
bellion, within the building — these all give but a meagre idea of what the Com- 
missioners have suggested and planned for the future artistic ornamentation of 
the building and Capitol grounds. The unique and beautiful Soldiers' and 
Sailors' Memorial Arch, that as the years roll on, will be even more admired 
and appreciated than it is to-day. The statues of Bishop Brownell on the Col- 
lege Campus, and Dr. Horace Wells, General Israel Putnam and Governor R. 
D. Hubbard on Bushnell Park, and the heroic statue of Nathan Hale, by our 
Hartford sculptor, Mr. E. S. Woods, that stands on the lawn in front of the 



public library ; with the Memorial Tablet by the same artist to Dr. Wells on the 
D. F. Robinson building on Main street ; all these attest the advance that 
Hartford has made in art development within the past few years. 

The contemplated encircling the city with a system of beautiful parks, 
will give, even before their completion, to our city a name and fame as one of 
the most lovable cities in the Union. The one blot on our good name, is the 
neglect to care for the Old Center burying ground. When our citizens fully 
realize how beautiful an approach to the Bushnell Park can be secured by 
widening Gold street ; with a memorial arch and bridge at the new entrance to 
the Park ; with a statue of Dr. Bushnell placed over the entrance ; and the old 
Center Church, set as it were in a new park, with the historic old burying 
ground in the background, — they must, and will see to it, I hope, very soon, 
that this very much to be desired change of surrounding is effected. 


Edmund Clarence Stedman in St. Nicholas. 

Here where the curfew 

Still, they say, rings, 
Time rested long ago, 

Folded his wings; 
Here, on old Norwich's 

Out-along road. 
Cousin Lucretia. 

Had her abode. 

Norridge, not Nor-wich 

(See Mother Goose), 
Good enough English 

For a song's use, 
Side and roof shingled, 

All of a piece, 
Here was the cottage of 

Cousin Lucrece. 

Living forlornly on 

Nothing a year, 
How she took comfort 

Does not appear; 
How kept her body, 

On what they gave, 
Out of the poorhouse. 

Out of the grave. 

Highly connected? 

Straight as the Nile 
Down from " the Gard'ners " 

Gardiner's Isle 
(Three bugles, chevron gules. 

Hand upon sword), 

Of the third lord. 

Bent almost double, 

Deaf as a witch, 
Gout her chief trouble — 

Just as if rich ; 
Vain of her ancestry, 

Mouth all agrin, 
Nose half-way meeting her 

Sky-pointed chin; 

Ducking her forehead-top, 

Wrinkled and bare, 
With a Colonial 

Furbelowed air; 
Greeting her next-of-kin, 

Nephew and niece — 
Foolish old, prating old 

Cousin Lucrece. 


Once every year she had 

All she could eat, 
Turkey and cranberries, 

Pudding and sweet ; 
Every Thanksgiving 

Up to the great 
House of her kinsman was 

Driven in state. 

Oh, what a sight to see, 

Rigged in her best ! 
Wearing the famous gown 

Drawn from her chest — 
Worn, ere King George's reign 

Here chanced to cease, 
Once by a forbear of 

Cousin Lucrece. 

Damask brocaded, 

Cut very low, 
Short sleeves and finger-mitts 

Fit for a show; 
Palsied neck shaking her 

Rust-yellow curls, 
Rattling its roundabout 

String of mock pearls. 

Oyer her noddle, 

Draggled and stark, 
Two ostrich feathers — 

Brought from the ark; 
Shoes of frayed satin, 

All heel and toe, 
On her crippled feet 

Hobbled below. 

My ! how the Justice's 

Sons and their wives 
Laughed ; while the little folk 

Ran for their lives, 
Asking if beldames 

Out of the past, 
Old fairy-godmothers 

Always could last? 

No ! One Thanksgiving, 

Bitterly cold, 
After they took her home 

(Ever so old), 
In her gray chair she sank, 

There to find peace : 
Died in her ancient dress — ■ 

Poor old Lucrece. 




In the United States, the establishment of public parks in urban situations, 
is a matter of but recent introduction. Even Central Park, in New York city, 
(probably the oldest one in this country), was not definitely planned until 
1858 ; although authority to take the lands required for the purpose was granted 
in 1853. The ancient Common, at Boston, is not an exception, for it was never 
a park, in any proper sense of the word. Like many another town common, 
it was originally set apart as a public pasture for cattle and sheep ; and it has 
never been dedicated, or used, exclusively as a park area. 

1. Morocco Factory. 2. Bliss House. 3. Webb House. 
8. Dwellings. 9. Railroad Buildings. 10. Soap Factory. 

4. 5. James Ward's Houses. 6. Cooper Shop. 7. Ice House, 
[i. Daniels' Mill. 12. Blacksmith Shop. 13. Watering Place. 

Bushnell Park, in Hartford, may therefore truly claim to be one of the oldest 
in this country ; perhaps, next to Central Park, the oldest. It was in Novem- 
ber, 1853, that a committee of the Court of Common Council reported in favor 
of a public park for Hartford. This was pursuant to a scheme devised and 
earnestly advocated, in the face of strong opposition — by a man possessed of 



great intellect and foresight, the late Rev. Horace Bushnell, D. D. The com- 
mittee (but two members of which are living) consisted of: David S. Robinson, 
James L. Howard, Chauncey Howard, James Bolter, William L. Wright, Edwin 
Merritt, and John W. Danforth. Its estimate of the probable cost of the lands 
required to be taken, was $i I 5,000. The project did not contemplate the taking 
of any land on the left bank of Little (now Park) River. 

In December, 1853, the same committee reported in favor of a new, and 
more southern line for Elm street, so as to bring more area within the proposed 
park. The Common Council, by a vote of seventeen to three, adopted the 
report. Other meetings, subsequently held by that board, resulted in a submis- 
sion of the question of the establishment of the Park to a popular vote of the 

^ ■.|'M:'-^ : -f^' ; r : V;^. , r :: :- 

". . . ' 

?■'■-. ':.'■''. 

k; ; - 

THE ISAAC BLISS HOUSE, which stood on the west side of the present Trinity street. From a painting in possession of 

Mrs. Robert E. Day. 

city, held January 5th, 1854. The vote was 1,005 m favor of the Park, and 682 
in opposition to it. 

But a decision to have a public park is one thing, and the having it, is, or 
may be, quite a different one. A committee (Dennison Morgan, Hiram Bissell 
and Wm. W. House) was chosen to appraise the required lands ; and its appraisal 
amounted to $121 ,000. Progress in obtaining these lands was slow. At the end 
of 1854, but two contracts of purchase had been closed. One of these, was the 
purchase of Henry French's (formerly William Imlay's) grist-mill and water 
privilege, for $28,000; possession to be given April 1st, 1855. The other, was 
the purchase of road-bed, etc., of the Hartford and New Haven R. R. Co., at the 
price of $25,000; the right of possession to commence April 1st, 1856. This 
last sale included land and buildings on Welles street, and land on Asylum street. 



Neither of these were included in the original scheme ; and the cost of them was 

In the limited time at my command, I have not been able to compile a 
statement of the names of the proprietors whose lands were taken, nor of the 
amounts each received. In the eastern section, the largest area taken belonged 
to Col. James Ward. He was paid for it (including two dwelling-houses) 
$32,000. Several large and noble elm trees, near Elm street, stand by the 
sites of these departed dwellings. East of these, and near to Daniels' mill, on 
Elm street, stood Skinner's morocco-leather works. The land was taken, and 
the buildings removed. Farther up the same street, and on its south side, was the 
African Methodist Episcopal Zion's Church. This, with two or three dwellings 
belonging to colored occupants, gave way to the new location of Elm street. 

At the head of Elm street, and west of the present Trinity street, was the 

View looking southwest from a point near foot of Trumbull street. It shows the Island {that was} : Trinity College Build- 
ings; also a railway car, standing near the site of the present Park Pond. From a painting in possession of the Conn. Historical 
Society. Artist unknown. 

residence of Maj. X. Seymour Webb. He professed a strong attachment to the 
old homestead, and strongly opposed the Park project, but his efforts did not 
avail to prevent the taking of his land. North of the Webb place, was the 
venerable mansion of the Isaac Bliss estate, with sundry buildings, remnants of 
his tannery. These were taken ; but the ancient elm tree, with several less 
ancient but grand specimens, besides — were spared, and still cast their welcome 
shade upon that section. The noted spring, on the same premises, appears to 
have had its waters diverted to some subterranean drain or passage. 

Going now to the extreme western limit, on the river bank, a railway bridge 
crossed the stream at the point where the Park tool-house now stands. In fact, 
the rear wall of that building rests upon the old eastern abutment of the bridge. 
North of this was an ice-house ; next, a cooper shop ; next, Imlay's dam (said 
to have been twelve feet high) ; and close below the dam was the flouring mill 



IMLAY'S MILL AND DAM; from a sketch now in possession of the Conn. 
Historical Society. Artist unknown. 

belonging to Henry French, but formerly Wm. H. Imlay's. Below the mill, 
were three other buildings on the river bank. Where the Terrace is, was a ledge 
of rock, which had been worked, and was known as the Quarry. A little north 
of this were railroad repair shops. Still further north, was a collection of build- 
ings ; some being dwelling-houses, and some sheds, etc. Another railway bridge 
crossed the river, to the depot north of Asylum street. It was a little below 

the present stepping- 

' ~" c— | stones' dam. This depot 

(built in 1849) was for 
passengers; whilst the 
old one, at the foot of 
Mulberry street, had 
/-** been given up to freight 


East of the river, 
adjoining the west side 
of Mill (now Welles) 
street, was a row of five 
or six dwelling-houses. 
These were south of the 
depot. North of the 
depot, and opposite to 
the site of the present 
Hotel Heublein, was the 
soap factory of R. S. & G. 
Seyms. They were paid 
property ^10,000. Considering the nature of the property, it seems 
as though very liberal prices were paid to these riparian owners. Among other 
lots south of the Mulberry street bridge, those of Hungerford & Cone, Bernard 
Sceery, and Jeremiah Howard, were bought for $5,015, $4,255, and $2,300, 
respectively. And the 
City is still paying 
ground - rent to Trinity 
College for some of these 

Excepting the rail- 
road land, none was taken 
on the left bank of the 
river, until after the lay- 
ing out of Jewell street, 
and the new line of Mill 
street, which was made 
to end at Trumbull street. 
By the vote establishing 
Jewell street (passed in 
1 861) land was acquired 
north of the river, from 
Ford street to Trumbull. 
T h e latter terminated, 
south, at the river bank; and a little east of this terminus was, or had been, a 
watering place for horses, and a immersion place for the Baptists. A vote, also 
passed in 1861, provided for taking the land on the west side of Mill street, in- 
cluding the Daniels' mill property on that street. Why this property (so desir- 
able for park purposes) was not acquired — is past comprehension. Perhaps 

for their property $10,000. 

Foot-bridge, that stood near the Ford, at foot of Pearl street. Sketched (from 
memory) by Frederick P>. Perkins; the original now in possession of the Conn. His- 
torical Society. 


the burdens of the Civil War, prevented the appropriation of the requisite funds 
for that purpose. It was not till 1867, that the new street and embankment were 

In the river, off the foot of South Ann street, was an Island, (Ward's) of 
considerable size ; so large, in fact, that it had served as the site of a tannery. 
It was now occupied by somewhat large trees. This Island was some years later 
graded down, and is now mainly a shoal, in the widest part of the river. South 
of the river, at this point, was a slough, whose site is now occupied by the Park 
Pond. Imlay's dam, heretofore mentioned, disappeared during a freshet in 
1856. A deep " hole " in its pond had been the scene of many a drowning ; and 
Col. " Sam " Cooley recovered many bodies, and rescued many people from its 
darksome depths. 

About the only structure antedating the Park, and now within it, is Ford 
street bridge, built in 1856. Its five elliptical arches have been since sur- 
mounted by battlemented parapets, and made to harmonize architecturally with 
the Memorial Arch which dominates its southern approach. Prior to 1850, 
there was a " ford, " near the foot of Pearl street. Bliss street (now Trinity) 
did not extend across the river; and the ford was mainly used by teams bound 
to or from Imlay's mill. Access to the mill from the south, was had by a path 
curving northwesterly from Bliss street. Besides grain, ginger-root, dyewoods, 
etc., were ground at this mill. A ship's mast, on high supports, lay athwart the 
stream, below the ford ; for the accommodation of such pedestrians as would 
venture to cross thereby. Of the railway bridge at Mulberry street, only the 
abutments and pier remain ; and these support the present foot-bridge at that 
point. The Trumbull street bridge was not built until 1864. Nor was there a 
bridge-crossing opposite to Union Place, before 1859. These last two are foot- 
bridges, only. 

These explanations will serve to show the situation in i860, when, for the 
first time, a board of park commissioners was constituted, thenceforth to assume 
the management of the parks of Hartford. 


Ye dainte, pinkie silken bande, 

I warn ye, be not ower bolde, 
Because in alle the sunlit lande 

There be no taske like thyne — to holde 
My ladie's waiste. 

Your prettie colour is not seen 

Beside the rose-blush in her cheeke. 

And silver buckles pale, I ween, 

Before the loving lights which seeke 
Her swete browne eyes. 

And let me whisper, silken belte, 
That to ye nowe is tribute paide 

Because prime favorite art thou helt, 
Forsoothe, by that coquettish maide. 

Yet, 'tis but passing honour. Soon 
Ye will give place to newer thing 

That takes her fancy — a fresh tune, — 
And alle the joys your day shall bring 
I envy not. 

For, look ye, while in useful guise 
Ye clasp her waiste, e'en this shorte tyme, 
Her two redde lippes, her swete browne eye: 

And alle her tender love are myne, — 
I holde her heart. 



The Rev. Dr. Walker preached an able discourse, Sunday morning, Octo- 
ber 14th, at the Center Church, relative to the life and influence of Thomas 
Hooker, the founder of that church. The historical facts of the great founder's 
career were depicted in a few brilliant passages. Dr. Walker's idea was not to 
present the history of the man so much as to indicate what his position and 
influence would be were he the occupant of the pulpit at the present time. 
One thing then, said Dr. Walker, that Thomas Hooker would stand for, were 
he pastor of this church at the present hour, would be the largest attainable 
intelligence in this pulpit, in this congregation, and in the community generally. 
Mr. Hooker was himself a man of an extraordinary, alert and instructed intelli- 
gence, attained against many adverse circumstances. Plainly, were he living at 
the present time, he w r ould be open-eyed to see, and open-minded to accept, all 
new light on doctrine, life and behavior which the progress of time might have 
brought. Only I must insist, that that acute intelligence would demand that 
the "new light" should be really light. I see no evidence that he ever loved 
the new because it was new or change because it was change. He was indeed 
progressive and innovative in his time ; but he progressed only where he 
thought the truth led him, and innovated only against what his reason and con- 
science pronounced wrong. Just where in any theological divisions of the 
present time Mr. Hooker would be found, I do not pretend to know or to con- 
jecture. But sure I am, his position would be assumed with full intelligence of 
the facts and arguments in the case ; and once assumed would be as clearly and 
powerfully maintained. As steadfast for the true, as resolute against the 
false, he would be to-day no weather-cock of every whiffling wind, but a man to 
be reckoned with and relied upon, as one sympathizing with all that is good ; 
accepting all that is clearly proved ; rejoicing in everything enlightening and 
enlarging in human thought; as a scholar, catholic, generous, honest; as a 
minister, wise, inspiring and uplifting toward the beautiful, good and true. 

Another thing Thomas Hooker would stand for, were he in the Hartford pul- 
pit or in Hartford citizenship to-day, would be the largest scope of individual 
privilege and opportunity compatible with public order and social welfare. 

The needy and the down-trodden would have in him a champion always. 
He would have been an anti-slavery man in days when anti-slavery views were 
not as fashionable as they after a while came to be. He would be a temperance 
man, and would not relish having a licensed dram shop standing within a hun- 
dred feet of the door of the First Church of Hartford ; and almost equally 
close to his grave. He would be an opposer of tyranny and injustice of all 
kinds ; whether the tyranny and injustice of capital, class-distinction, birth 
privilege, or the subtler, but sometimes equally arrogant injustice and tyranny 
of Pharisaic virtue and dilletanti scholarship. This is quite plain. But equally 
plain is it that the liberty he would claim for every man is a liberty subject to 
law. The privilege he would demand for all would be a privilege compatible 
with the welfare of all. No anarchist he ; no socialist. No wild doctrinaire 
declaiming against property, and loosening by his influence the stern demands 
of industry and self-control and prudence, as the recognized conditions of suc- 
cess. How he would brush aside with a whiff of clear, bracing common-sense 
a great deal of the self-meant twaddle that has of late found utterance in many 


of our pulpits, whose effect has been to intensify rather than to ameliorate the 
antagonism between employers and employed ; to encourage the idea that any- 
where in this world anything lastingly good can be got by anything but honest 
labor; and which has dissimulated broadcast the idea among those all too ready 
to welcome it, that the Church of Christ is and has been a hindrance rather 
than a helper to the welfare of mankind ! No, this man, was a democrat, but 
not a fanatic. He was a statesman, not a demagogue. 

Another thing Thomas Hooker would stand for were he in his pulpit to- 
day is the free, unformalistic conduct of church government and worship. 

One is almost tempted to wish that Thomas Hooker and John Cotton might 
come back from whatsoever place they now are, and behold the development of 
the seed they so arduously sowed and nurtured two centuries and a half ago. 

What if now they could see what meets our eyes to-day ! More than 
five thousand churches explicitly of our Congregational connection, confederated 
in one body on precisely those principles of local independency and mutual 
fellowship so clearly defined in Cotton's Keys and Hooker's Survey, and 
stretching through every county, almost, from our eastern to western sea ! 
What if they could see also the fundamental principle of unhierarchic church 
government and free unprescribed worship for which they contended, illustrated 
not alone by Congregational churches, so-called, but by other great bodies of 
Christian believers not bearing our name — Baptists, Unitarians, Christians, 
Plymouth Brethren, as well as several smaller religious fraternities ; so that in a 
fair estimate about 38 per cent, of American Christianity to-day, spite of the vast 
importation of Romanism in the last fifty years, is essentially Congregational ! 

As a last suggestion in the line of our present inquiry I remark that 
another thing which Thomas Hooker would stand for and represent were he 
living now, would be earnestness and spirituality in personal religion. I put 
this last, not as being least, but as being greatest, in the things Mr. Hooker 
represented two centuries and a half ago ; and which, being the man he was, we 
may believe he would represent were he in this pulpit to-day. 

Mr. Hooker's clear title to his eminence as the author of the outline of the 
Connecticut Constitution, and so of his repute as a statesman, rests on twenty- 
six lines of a report of one of his sermons by Henry Wolcot of Windsor. But 
he left about thirty volumes, great and small, written in his character of shep- 
herd of human souls, and dealing only with morals and religion. His repute as 
a definer and expounder of Congregationalism stands on the single, but suffi- 
cient, basis of one book. This well expresses his sense of the proportion of 
things as they stood in his conception of his life and appointed work. What he 
did other than as a Gospel minister he did as it were accidently and by the 
way. His scholarship, of which he had so much, was a thing to make his min- 
istry more effective and useful. His influence and views in political affairs were 
employed that the State might be the harmonious fellow-worker with the Church 
in the welfare of men. Even his studies and endeavors in framing a church polity 
were to the end that religion might the better flourish. Religion was the upper- 
most thing always. A spiritual earnest piety in human hearts ; that was the one 
great thing he was set to promote, and to it, above all else, he gave himself. 

A preacher so intent on helping men was certain to enkindle men's sympa- 
thies. And such a preacher was sure of hearers whether in city or in frontier 
wilderness. Indeed, with all due respect to any of the long succession of this 
church's pastors, living or dead — and some of them have been quite eminent 
men — I doubt if this church ever had preaching so acute, vivacious and inher- 
ently stirring, as it had from the first pastor's lips, in the old log meeting-house, 
down on what we call state house square. 



The editor of the Connecticut Quarterly Magazine has done me the honor to ask me to write some- 
thing in the nature of an introduction to his proposed re-issue in the magazine of my story of " Scrope." 
He suggested anything which I might wish to add about the Scrope family, and also any observations 
about the origin and development of the story itself. He justifies his reprint of the story by saying that 
after twenty years from its first appearance (in "Old and New," in 1874), it will now be practically an 
unknown and therefore a new book. It always was somewhat that way, and doubtless is so still. 

I take pleasure in acceding to his wish as well as I can ; but I doubt whether I shall greatly gratify 
either him or his readers. I am not able to add anything to the statements made in the story about the 
Scrope and Throop families. The Scropes were a very old and honorable English family, as is very well 
known, and their history is well established for nearly a thousand years, with a good deal of detail. But I 
have never made out exactly the relationship of the regicide, Adrian Scrope or Scroope to that Adrian 
Scroope, whose signature is in the archives of the State of Connecticut; and the question of the change of 
his name to Throop is at least equally obscure. 

It remains to speak of the origin of the story itself. A stqry is often hatched out of one original germ 
or central idea, as a butterfly is hatched out of an egg. This original idea comes of itself into the writer's 
mind, and no other account of its source can be given, so far as I know. Indeed, all those operations of 
the mind which we call thinking, take place beyond the reach of any scrutiny or observation of ours. 
When we desire any result of thought, such for instance as to remember something, to devise some means 
to an end, or some theme for a story, we appeal to our minds, as one does to the hidden mechanism of a 
" slot machine." We drop our request into the slot, and wait. The actual thinking is done in a region 
both near and far — within our head, yet as utterly beyond our reach as if it were done in the planet Nep- 
tune. And then, if there is to be any answer, all at once there it is, within our consciousness. From time 
to time, moreover, the machine furnishes information of itself, without our asking for it; and we describe 
this power by saying, "It occurred to me " or the like. 

The changes and additions made by the author before publishing are like the successive developments 
of the egg, into caterpillar, larva, and butterfly. Thus, the original idea or germ of " Scrope " was that of a 
Hartford young man trying to find some books that had belonged to an ancestor of his about two hundred 
years before. All the other materials were added on (if I may mix ornithology with entomology in develop- 
ing my metaphor) during incubation. 

I made my story turn out well for the good folks and ill for the bad ones, according to justice and 
good literature. Stories with a melancholy ending I do most heartily despise. A little, dirty New York 
newsboy was once asked how he would make a story interesting, if he should set out to write one. He re- 
flected a little, and said : " I'd have a young lady, very good and very beautiful, and then I'd just make her 

suffer like h ." The dirty newsboy's butcherly ideal is exactly that of all tragedy, either in novel or 

drama. It is the essence of vulgarity and brutality. As if there were not real sorrow enough in the world 
without adding a lot of counterfeit sorrow besides; as if we lived in happiness so concentrated that it 
required some artificial misery stirred in to dilute it ! For my part, I would as soon go to see the slaughter- 
ing at a Chicago packing-house as to go to see a tragedy, or to read one ! 

The characters in the story are nearly all described from persons I have known. Mr. Tarbox Button, 
for instance, was a close study from the life, of a late successful New York subscription-book publisher. I 
seem to have succeeded in delineating a type in this case; for when the printers of "Old and New" came 
to this personage, they wanted him left out. They said I had so accurately described the person and the 
ways of another well-known publisher in the same line, and who was a valuable customer of theirs, that 
when he came to see it he would certainly be angry and would take away from them all his business; and I 
had some difficulty inducing them to tolerate my portrait. 

Mr. Howland Ball was Mr. Merwin, of the then firm of Bangs, Merwin & Co., Mr. S. P. Quincy 
Anketell was the late Stephen Pearl Andrews. Mr. Stanley, the book collector, was the late George Brin- 
ley, of Hartford; Adam Welles, was Mr. Sydney Stanley of Manchester; Mr. Toomston, was the Rev. 
Joel Hawes, D. D., of Hartford. Olds, was Young, the detective. Van Braam and Civille were "made 
up;" and so on. Such of my characters as I " developed out of my inner consciousness " were, as it . 
appears to me, comparatively vague and indistinct. The Scrope genealogy was suggested by the Stebbins 
genealogy, the first one printed in America. 

I used to have a strong desire to be capable of writing a good lyric and of composing a good melody 
for it. I never wrote any lyric at all, and the best I could do towards the melody part was the airs which 
I set to the songs in Scrope. If I were to recommend the story as having any merit in particular, it would 
be for the description of the book auction in the first chapter; that of the subscription-book publisher, his 
character and ways of doing business, and that of old William Gowans and his catacomb of a book-store. 
The reception of the story at its first appearance, was quite as favorable as it deserved. I may be permitted 
to hope, for the sake of the present publisher, that its success in this reissue will be much greater than 
it deserves. FREDERIC B. PERKINS. 

Mr. Perkins's modest preface to his story will hardly do justice to its intrinsic merits, as the reader will 
discover as it progresses in our pages. In casting about for a suitable serial story, we accidentally fell on 
" Scrope," which was highly recommended by an old and tried friend, whose judgment is not to be gain- 
said. As our magazine has a distinctly antiquarian flavor in the main, we conclude that we shall not be at 
fault in deciding to reissue it. Let the reader[judge. — Editor. 


A Novel of New York and Hartford 



" Half-a-dollar, halfadollarfadollafadollafadollafadollathat's bid now, give 
more'f ye want it! Half-a-dollar five-eighths three-quarters — Three-quarters 
I'm bid : — will you say a dollar for this standard work octarvo best edition harf 
morocker extry ? Three-quarters I'm bid, three-quarters will ye give any more? 
Three - quarters, threequarttheequarttheequawttheequawttheequawt, one dollar 
shall I HAVE? " 

Thus vociferated, at a quarter past five o'clock in the afternoon of Tues- 
day, January 9th, A. D. 186 — , with the professional accelerando and with a 
final smart rising inflection, that experienced and successful auctioneer Mr. 
Howland Ball, a broad-shouldered, powerful-looking man of middle height, with 
a large head, full eyes, a bluff look, spectacles, and plenty of stiff short iron-gray 

A tall personage, old, gaunt and dry, but apparently strong, with dusty 
black clothes and a "stove-pipe" hat, pulled down over his eyes, in the front 
row of seats, a little to one side of Mr. Ball's desk, answered in a grave, dry, 
deliberate voice : 

" Seven-eighths. But it's damaged. " 

"No tain't either," sharply answered the auctioneer, "what do ye mean, 
Chase? " 

" Catalogue says so. It says the title-page is greasy. " 

Every man at once examined the catalogue he held in his hand, and a 
laugh arose as one and another detected the mistake that old Chase was jesting 
about. The printer's proof-reader — as sometimes happens even to proof- 
readers — had been half learned, and out of the halfness of his learning had 
substituted "lubricated" which he knew, for "rubricated," which he did not, 
and the catalogue bore that the book had a lubricated title-page. Everybody 
laughed except Chase, whose saturnine features did not change. 

"Gentlemen," said Mr. Ball, "pay no attention to Chase's jokes, but go on 
with the sale. Seven-eighths I am bid. Seven-eighths, sevnatesnatesnatesnate- 
snate say a dollar, somebody !" implored he in his strong harsh voice. Then 
he paused a moment and looking around upon his hearers with an earnest 
expression, he slowly lifted his right hand as if about to make oath before any 
duly qualified justice of the peace or notary public : 

" Going. Will nobody give me one dollar for that valuable and interesting 
work, octarvo best edition harf morocker extry, cheap at five dollars?" — A 
pause — " Gone ! Chase at seven-eighths." 

As he said " Gone," down came his hand with a slap. The hand is in these 
days often used for the traditional hammer, as a decent dress-coat is, instead of 
the judge's ermine. The following words were his announcement to his book- 
keeper of the customer's name and the price ; and then Mr. Ball, turning again 
to the audience, observed with a grin and a queer chuckle — "And a good time 
Mister Chase'll have a gittin his'money back! " 

A young man in a back seat whispered to his neighbor. 

"He said Chase. Isn't that Gowans?" 


"What's the next line?" sung out Ball at this moment to an assistant at 
the side opposite to the book-keeper, always behind the long desk or counter 

which separates the high-priest from the votaries in such temples as this 

"What's the next line? Oh yes, number ninety-three, gentlemen. 'Requeel 
de Divers Voyges.' Something about the pearl fisheries I guess. How much 
'moffered f th' Requeel, gentlemen ? Full of valuable old copperplate illustra- 
tions ; rare, catalogue says, — I 'spose that means 'tisn't well done (chuckle) — 
rare and interesting old book" — 

" Yes. He always buys by that name," briefly answered the young man's 
neighbor, looking up a moment from entering "7-8 Chase" in the margin of 
his catalogue against No. 92. 

" Do they all do so?" queried the young man. 

" A good many. You see" — 

" Shut up there, Sibley ! " broke in the strong business voice of the auc- 
tioneer. "Order in the ranks ! I can't hear myself think, you keep up such a 
racket ! " 

The words were sufficiently rough, but the speaker's bluff features wore a 
jolly smile, and he ended with a short chuckle. He was right, too, in sub- 
stance, and the person he called Sibley did "shut up," though a kind of sniff 
and a meaning smile and look at his young companion intimated the dissent of 
superior breeding as to the manner of the request. 

The sale was one which might be classed as " strictly miscellaneous." It 

is true that a hasty glance at the title-page of the catalogue informed the reader 

in " full faced display type " that there was a " valuable private library ; " but a 

closer inspection would show that like those speakers who go at once from 

whisper to shout, this deluding inscription leaped from small "lower-case " to a 

heavy " condensed Gothic," somewhat thus : 


of books, including 


etc., etc." 

No doubt it was "valuable" in a sense. So is dirt. But assuredly no 
human being having his wits about him, would give shelf-room to such a 
"mess " as this was, taking it all together, unless for purposes of commerce. It 
was one of those sales that are made up once in a while from odds and ends of 
consignments, with some luckless invoice of better books mingled in, to flavor a 
little, if it may be, the unpleasant mass. But the plan is sure to fail; poor 
Tray is judged by his company ; the good books go for the price of poor ones, 
the poor ones for the price of "paper stock; " the account-sales ends with a 
small additional charge over and above receipts against the consignor to meet 
expenses, cataloguing and auctioneer's commissions ; and the consignor, using 
indefensible terms of general reproach, goes through the absurd operation of 
paying money for the loss of his property. The auctioneer's shelves are 
cleared, at any rate, and ready for replenishment with those gorgeous or rare 
books which he loves to sell, feeling his commission rising warm in his very 
pockets, as the emulous calls or nods or delicate wafts of catalogues or tip-ups 
of fore-fingers flock up to him from every part of the room, and his voice 
grows round and full as he glances hither and thither, hopping up the numera- 
tion table ten dollars at a time. — 

How still the room grows, when such a passage-at-purses soars aloft like 
the spirits of the dead soldiers in Kaulbach's " Battle of the Huns," into that 
rare and exhausting two-or-three-hundred-dollar atmosphere ! 

But there was none of that, on this occasion. The number of " lines " or 
lots, in the catalogue, was only two hundred and eighty-nine, in all. In the 


New York book-auctions, somewhat more than a hundred lots an hour are com- 
monly despatched ; the cheaper the lots the faster they must be run off; and in 
the present instance a single sitting of two hours or so was deemed an ample 
allowance. The actual bulk, or weight, or number, whichever category you 
may prefer, of volumes, however, was very considerable, as the common prac- 
tice had been pursued of " bunching up " five, ten or twenty of the miserable 
things, into parcels with a string, and cataloguing them somewhat thus : 

245. Tupper's Proverbial Philosophy, etc. '5 vols. 

246. Patent Reports, etc. 10 vols. Some valuable. 

247. School-books. 20 vols. 

Well ; the sale went on, Chase buying an extraordinary number of lots, 
and a small, short, bushy-bearded and wonderfully dirty Israelite who sat next 
him, and whom the bluff auctioneer irreverently saluted when he first bid with 
" Hallo ! you there, father Abraham?" buying a very few bundles at two cents 
or three cents per volume. The securing of one of these small prizes by the 
dirty man seemed to irritate worthy Mr. Ball; for having offered to the com- 
pany the succeeding lot, and there being a moment's pause in which no one 
bid, the auctioneer with much gravity exclaimed, 

" Put it down to Chase at five cents ! " 

" I won't have it ! " said the old man. 

"Ye shall have it — what's the next?" was all the auctioneer replied, 
with a facetious chuckle and an assumption of great violence, and down it went 
to Chase, while Mr. Ball, without heeding his remonstrances, went straight on 
with the next lot. This was a worn looking octavo volume, with what is tech- 
nically called a " skiver " or " split sheep " back and old-fashioned marbled 
board sides. 

"Number 109," cried the auctioneer; "Reverend Strong's ordination ser- 
mon and so forth. Valuable old pamphlets, and what'll you give for It?" — 
with a quaint sudden stress on this seldom emphasized pronoun, as if Mr. Ball 
had meant that the poor neglected thing should find one at least to think it of 
some weight. 

"Ten cents," said old Chase, in his grave dry voice — "what's the book? " 

"Twenty-five," said somebody. 

" Thirty," called out the young man who had asked about Chase. His 
voice was eager, and no doubt more than one of the sharp veterans present said 
to themselves, at that intonation, " Ah, I can put him up if I like ! " But the 
sale was dull; as it happened no one did " put him up." 

"Thirty cents I'm bid," proceeded M. Ball; "Thirty, thirty, thirty. Say 
thirty-five. Thirty-five shall I HAVE? And gone (slap) for thirty cents 

" Cash," was the reply to this inquiry for a name ; and the buyer, stepping 
up to the desk, paid his money and took his book. 

" Mark it delivered," resumed the auctioneer; "The next is number no, 
Life of Brown. How much will you give for It? How much for Brown? 
The celebrated Brown ! Come, be quick, gentlemen ! I can't stay here all 
night ! One dollar one dollar one dollawundollawundolla why is that too 
much? What will you give then? " 

"Two cents" timidly ventured the soiled dove of a Hebrew, who looked as 
if he had "lain among the pots" ever since the idea of doing so was first 

" No you don't ! " exclaimed the scandalized auctioneer, " I'll give three 
cents myself. Here, Chase, now I expect you to offer five cents apiece for 
every book on this catalogue." 


" 111 do it," returned the old man promptly ; and the humble hopes of the 
poor Jew were effectually extinguished. He rose and quietly stole out of the 
room, his head bent forward, with an air of exhaustion, suffering and patient 
endurance. No wonder ; it must have been a burden to carry the real estate 
and perfumery together that were upon his person. 

As he went out, in came Sibley in haste, from the hall outside, and 
resumed his seat, which nobody in particular had observed him leaving, calling 
out as he did so, 

" What number are you selling? " 

" One hundred and ten, Sibley, — five cents is bid, seven and half will you 
give? " 

"One hundred and ten!" exclaimed Sibley, greatly discomposed — " I 
wanted one hundred and nine ; got an unlimited order ; I was only called out 
for a moment — who's got it? " 

" Cash is his name," returned the accommodating auctioneer, chuckling; 
and a long thin fellow who bought books in the name of Park, and whose quiet, 
shrewd and rather satirical cast of features denoted much character, added 

— "and cash is his nature. Be on hand next time, Sibley. 'Too late I 
staid, forgive the crime.' " 

But Sibley paid no heed to their chaffing, and the sale went noisily on, 
while Mr. "Cash" civilly informed his disappointed neighbor that he had 
bought the book, and at the same time handed it to him for inspection. Sibley 
took it, and barely glancing at the title page of the first pamphlet in it, returned 
it with thanks ; 

"Thank you (then to the auctioneer) — five-eighths! (then to Cash). 
My customer wanted the first sermon, no doubt (then to Ball) Yes ! — quarter 
(then to Cash) I've got a fresh uncut copy that I'll give him for the same 
money (then to Ball) No — let him have it (then to cash) — much obliged 
to you all the same." 

The young man who had described himself as " Cash" now proceeded to 
give the volume a vicious wrench open across his knee ; took out his knife and 
cut the twine strings at the back ; then, turning the covers back together, as 
cruel victors pinion their captives' elbows close in behind them, he passed the 
knife-blade behind a smaller pamphlet bound out of sight, as it were among the 
full sized octavos that constituted the bulk of the volume, so as to slit it out 
complete, perhaps bringing with it a film of the sheepskin of the back, held to 
the pamphlet by the clinging dry old paste. Then he again passed the volume 
to his neighbor, observing 

"There; that's all I wanted; I'm going, and I shall leave the rest of the 
volume any way ; so I'll make you a present of it." 

"Well," said Sibley, rather startled — "stay — however, if you say so" — 

And he laid the book in his lap, for the young man had risen with sudden 
quickness and was already out of the room. 


There is a small oblong upland meadow, of an acre or thereabouts in extent. 
It is enclosed by a high but ruinous board fence, showing signs of prehistoric 
paint, and its line reels, as it were, every now and then, sometimes outward and 
sometimes inward, as if quite too drunk to be steady, but still obstinate in 
clinging to the general line of duty ; a strange cincture for the neglected grass 
land within, which seems more likely to be shut in by the traditionary post-and- 
rail or the still more primitive " stake-and-rider " of the farm. This area is 


uneven, as if it had never since the removal of the first forest growth been once 
well levelled and cultivated; " humpy" almost, as if irregularly set with old 
graves ; all overgrown with meadow grass, long and fine and thin, like ill kept 
hair of one now growing old ; and looped and tangled here and there in the 
hollows, in dry wisps and knots, along with a scanty growth of brambles. At 
distant points there are a few trees. Two or three are ancient apple trees, dry- 
barked, thin of leafage, unhappy and starved in aspect. There is one solitary 
Lombardy poplar ; an erect shaft, obstinately pointing upwards, though wizened 
and almost bare, like an energetic old-fashioned maiden aunt, good, upright, 
rigid and homely. The largest group is a clump, or rather a dispersed squad, 
of weeping willows ; unexpected occupants of such high and dry and thirsty 
earth. Yet there they stand, with the dried, scrawny, half bald look that per- 
tains to the very earth beneath them, and to every thing that grows outside of 
it ; their long sad boughs trailing to the ground, so nearly destitute even of the 
scanty lanceolate foliage which is proper to them, as to repeat at a little distance 
the idea of the grass — that of long thin neglected hair. 

In the middle of the space around which these dreary trees stand like a picket 
line, is that which they were doubtless meant to adorn ; an old, comfortless- 
looking white wooden house. It is not ruinous, but is ill repaired and will be 
ruinous very soon ; in a year or two more the dingy white will verge into a 
dingy brown ; warping clapboards will have worked lose at one end, and the 
sloping line of only two or three of them will throw a disreputable shade over 
the whole front; some furious night-blast will fling those loose bricks that bal- 
ance on the rim of the large old-fashioned central chimney-shaft, down with an 
ominous hollow bang, upon the loosened shingles of the roof, and thence to the 
ground ; the shock will dislodge the shingles and admit the rain into the roomy 
old garret in streams, instead of the slow strings of drops that now make their 
quiet way here and there in upon the floor. When that point is reached, the 
destruction goes on more swiftly. Even if small boys do not break many 
a ready road through every old-fashioned little window-pane, the leakage 
through the roof itself will not require many years to loosen the faithful old 
plaster of the ceilings of the second story rooms, to lay it in ruin upon 
their floors, and to make its steady way onward to the lower floor, by a 
process not unlike that to which the French were forced, in penetrating the 
heroic city of Zaragoza. 

Even to say where this desolate old house and lot is not, would never suggest 
where it is. Any one familiar with New England will say, "That is like an old 
family homestead in some ancient Connecticut or Massachusetts town, where 
all the young people have regularly moved away every year for the last cen- 
tury, and the old people have died, and the old houses are dying too." 

True ; it is like it. But the old house and lot is not there. It is in the heart 
of New York City — that is, the ground is there, and the old house too, unless 
it has been pulled down, which to be sure is likely enough. The place, how- 
ever, is on Hudson street, a considerable distance above Canal, and nearly or 
quite opposite an old church. But the old church may be gone too, by this 
time. At any rate, so it was at the time of the auction ; and the graded level 
of the four streets around — for this lost-looking spot occupied a whole block 
— contrasted stiffly with the humps and hollows within. More than one such 
piece of waste real estate can be found in every great city. Sometimes it is 
land unimproved, sometimes it is covered with ruinous shabby little hovels 
standing among great business houses or rich mansions, sometimes it is a costly 
tenement standing shut and empty year after year. The reason is commonly, 
either minority of heirs, a lingering law-suit, or a capitalist's whim. 


The parlor of this house was a comfortably furnished well-sized room of no 
very particular appearance, with an open grate and a bright coal fire, a piano, 
tables, curtains, and " tackle, apparel and furniture complete," as they say in a 
ship's bill of sale. Something there was however about the room, rather to be 
felt than seen, and which every one could not perceive at all. This something, 
when recognized, proved to be a feeling that somebody lived in the room ; that 
it was used ; was occupied ; was a home. It would be difficult to say what 
gave this impression. Perhaps it was that the chairs did not all stand on the 
meridian ; that the willow work-basket at one side of the fireplace was a little 
too far out in the room, as if put there on purpose ; and that it overflowed with 
the gracious little engineries and materials of feminine domestic manufacture ; 
that a book lay carelessly over the edge of the shelf, and several others and 
some magazines and papers, in no order, on the table ; that a curtain hung a 
little one side, as if some one had looked out of the window and had let the 
curtain fall, instead of executing a precise re-adjustment of it. The room and 
its contents seemed as if in process of use ; not as if under effort not to use 
them, nor as if set apart for show, or for consecration. Some would say, no 
doubt, that this feeling was from the impressions or emanations or atmosphere 
— the persisting color or flavor or tone, or altogether — that had been dispersed 
about this room and printed upon its whole bounds and contents, by those who 
dwelt in it. 

However, this may be, something of this kind there was. The room was 
rather dusky than light however, for the colors of wall-paper, carpet, curtains, 
table-cover and furniture alike were chiefly of rather sombre and rusty reds and 
browns. A little conservatory opened from one window, which was cut down 
to the floor on purpose. This was filled to overflowing with strongly grown 
plants, most of them of the ornamental-leaved sorts that have become such 
favorites within the last ten or fifteen years ; and among these glowed the mag- 
nificent blooms of some of the brightest and largest flowered pelargoniums and 
tuberous-rooted fuchsias. There was a small fountain and basin with gold fish, 
almost buried under their leafage ; and above, over it, hung from the roots by 
scarlet cords, a large brightly colored shell, from which grew a graceful feathery 
plume of green sprays. 

Of ornaments or works of art, there were but very few in this room. The 
principal one was a large and broadly executed steel engraving, whose white 
"highlights" shone from its place above the grate in violent contrast to the 
sombre quiet of the rest of the room. Its subject was simply horrible — one of 
those powerful literal representations of mere agony that people seem to enjoy, 
with a vulgar brutal appetite like that which draws a crowd to see a public 
death. It was called "The Dying Camel." The field of the picture was filled 
with two broad masses, sky and desert. Below, stretched the flat thirsty stony 
sand, lifeless, endless, bounded by its one heavy horizon line, and glimmering 
and trembling in the. naked cruel stillness of the insufferable sunbeams that filled 
the hot white sky above. Close down in the middle of the foreground was the 
huge dark ungainly mass of the camel, prostrate, exhausted. His dead master 
lay flat on his face crowded under the shade of the beast's flank, his arms spread 
out at full length. An empty water flask, just beyond the dead fingers' ends, 
protruded a mocking round vacant mouth at the spectator. The miserable 
camel had just strength enough left to lift its long dry neck and grotesque muz- 
zle into the air, and the artist had imparted to the savage hairy face a horrible 
expression of despair, for the sunken eyes watched the circlings of a wide- 
winged vulture from moment to moment poising himself close above for the 
first gripe of claw and stab of beak ; and from the extreme distance there came 


flying low over the sand, with eager necks outstretched before them a long line 
of other vultures, already scenting their prey. 

At the centre table of this room, on the evening of the day of the book- 
auction, sat an old man. He was slender and almost frail; tall, dressed in black; 
with long silvery curls, and a bloodlessly white face, delicately featured, and 
whose thoughtful spiritual intelligence was saddened by some element of sorrow 
which might be weakness or disappointment or dissatisfaction or pain, — any 
or all of them together. His forehead was high, smooth, retreating and narrow ; 
his attitude upright ; and the ease and precision of his movements, and the 
clearness and brightness of his eyes, although they were sunken deep under the 
long overgrown eyebrows, showed that he had a good deal of life still left in 
him. On the table under a drop-light, confused with the books and magazines, 
were writing materials and a disorderly pile of papers, among which he had 
been working — or else, as they say in the country — "puttering." 

In a wadded arm-chair by the fire sat a girl, easily enough recognized as 
his daughter ; and the next observation likely to be made was, that old as her fa- 
ther was, he would probably outlive her. She was of middle height, very deli- 
cately formed, but with that roundness of modeling which makes people look 
so much lighter than they really are. Her skin was singularly clear and thin 
and almost as bloodlessly white as her father's ; the blue veins, here and there 
showing, indicated that the whiteness was not that of opaque tissue, but of de- 
ficient circulation and general condition. Her heavy black hair was coiled care- 
lessly at the back of her head, and combed away from her forehead, and from 
the small white ears, so as to show the wavy line that limited the growth of the 
hair along the temples, and to display fully the remarkable width and fullness of 
the forehead. This, indeed, was so marked that the family likeness which was 
unmistakable upon the two faces of herself and her father, existed there in -spite 
of the contradiction of the foreheads. Her eyes were very large, of a limpid 
gray, with long black lashes, and with delicate clearly pencilled eyebrows whose 
line was almost level for a little ways outward from the nose, and then fell on 
either hand in a more distant curve. The nose was fine but high, with well 
opened nostrils and thin, almost translucent tissues, like those of a blood horse ; 
the mouth neither small nor large, the lips rather full than thin, and as well as 
the chin, beautifully modeled, with that statuesque emphasis and distinctness of 
cut whose absence is one of the defects of the generic American face — if such 
generic face there be. But these lips were much too pale for beauty of color ; 
and they were extremely sensitive; so much so as to suggest some excessively 
wild and timid creature of the woods rather than a human being. And yet this 
vivid sensitiveness of the lips was contradicted by the serious thoughtful, fear- 
lessness of the eyes. The character of ill health so clearly intimated by the 
dead whiteness of the complexion and the paleness of the lips was greatly 
strengthened by the dark shades under the eyes, and by an undefmable but un- 
mistakable languor of attitude, movement, and of voice. Like her father, she 
was dressed in black ; a heavy rich black silk, cut high in the neck, but with a 
small square space in front after the pretty fashion called a la Pompadour. A 
narrow border of lace at the neck, and lace cuffs to match, were the only ap- 
proach to ornament in the whole costume. There was no ribbon, no bow, no 
ear-drops, no necklace, no bracelet, no buckle, no brooch, not even a ring. 
The young girl's singularly elegantly figure, the extreme quietness and even 
impassiveness of her perfectly composed and refined manner, were in some way 
intensified and set off by this rigid elderly plainness and richness of costume, 
which, as the French would say, " swore furiously at her youth." Thus the 
whole effect was a contradiction, so harsh, so violent, as to suggest at first the 


hateful idea of an obtruded modesty. This however quickly gave way, on a 
little observation, to the correct conclusion, that it was an incongruity only. 
But there was another effect, which the whole personality of the girl produced ; 
it was, if one might say so, that there radiated from her, or slowly gathered 
about her wherever she was, not the life and light that should glow from the 
young, but an atmosphere — or influence— that was dark, and dreary, if not 
cold ; perhaps not dead, but lifeless, — is there not a shade of difference? Last- 
ly: perhaps the strongest — certainly the most obvious mark of family resem- 
blance was a habit of eye common to her and her father. With noticeable fre- 
quency their upper eyelids came down so as to veil half the iris, and delayed 
there. All that this indicated was reflection, or some other mental effort. 
Clowns, for the purpose, scratch their heads; philosophers — and people with 
headaches — rest their foreheads in their hands. 

A third personage sat on a sofa at the hither side of the fire — to your 
right hand as you came from the door towards the fire — opposite the young 
girl, so that the three were at the angles of a triangle ; and as if the two had 
been chatting across the hearth while her father was busy among his papers. 
This third was a young man ; rather tall, well made, with a noticeable quickness 
and liveliness of manner and movement. He was somewhat fair, with merry 
brown eyes, good white teeth, full lips, a nose decidedly well shaped except that 
it was too broad and round at the end, and too thick in the wings of the nos- 
trils, as if the maker being in some haste, had carelessly left some surplus material 
there. Otherwise, the face was at first sight rather dull than bright ; not nearly 
so sprightly as the expression of the eye and the bearing of the whole figure. 

A peculiar look, which might almost be called grotesque, was given to the 
face, undeniably well-featured as it was, by the management of the hair and 
beard. The abundant crisp curls of the hair were cut at about two and a half 
inches in length and trained on a radiating, or what the pomologists call the fan, 
system. This gave the hair seen in profile the look of a crest, covering the top 
of the head and jutting in an enterprising manner forward and upward from the 
upper line of the forehead. The front view was much more glorious ; for it 
snowed a thick frizzled halo standing out within an almost circular outline about 
the upper part of the long oval of the face, like the solid aureoles on ancient 
pictures of saints ; or as if he dressed his hair by giving himself an awful fright 
every morning. The eyebrows were rather lifted, giving a funny sort of wide- 
awake look, which the young gentleman was accustomed to veil in some man- 
ner, if it might be, with a double eye-glass. Truly, nature having exhausted 
herself in this magnificent hairy crown of glory, had come short in the matter of 
beard ; for the chin of our friend was sparingly garnished with hair, that grew 
in a little thin brush or pencil, spreading outward at the ends, like the pictures 
of the growth of the bamboo. A like starved growth, as if a few hairs had 
been cruelly deserted upon some barren shore, struggled stiffly for existence 
upon his upper lip ; and some dim prophetic glimpses of the whiskers of the 
future could be seen by the eye of faith, between ears and chin. 

The ill-made gray suit, and the clumsy thick shoes indicated that he was 
-an Englishman ; and if this was not enough, there was a perceptible awkward- 
ness of attitude and of manner also, such' as is often seen among Englishmen 
even of the best social training and experience, but which in an American 
would be proof positive of want of such experience. Last and most of all, the 
cockney shibboleth of his speech ever and anon betrayed him, in spite of the 
sedulous watchfulness with which he tried to talk good English — a language 
which exists — orally — only west of the Atlantic. In England there are cor- 
rupt dialects of it only ; cockney, and provincial. 



" The Knight's bones are dust, 
And his good sword rust ; 
His soul is with the Saints, T trust." — Coleridge. 

There is no grander subject in the world than King Arthur." — Tennyson. 

It is usual for an editor to 
make his salutatory and 

FORE-WORDS salaam to the public, in the 
initial number of his under- 
taking, although it is often as 
thankless a task as that of the callow senior on 
commencement day ; and the average editor feels 
about as " vealy " as this great prototype should, 
who is about to set foot upon the world beneath 
him — or perhaps on some other world near at 
hand, from which coign of vantage he can, like 
Atlas of old, lift the burdens and sorrows of ours 
upon his shoulders. 

In this case, however, our editor has a more 
modest task, as he has not set out to reform the 
world, nor to advance any new heresy. It is much 
more modest and less wearing, to be " a chron- 
icler of small beer" than to be a hero in the van 
of journalism, a herald of a new crusade, or the 
advocate of a waning cause. We prefer to treat, 
chiefly, of the things of the past than of the 
present, not forgetting, however, that we live and 
move in to-day, nor that we have a future. 

For this and other reasons, our magazine is 
removed just a trifle off the present in most 
respects, and has a distinctly antiquarian flavor 
without being at all in the sere and yellow stage 
itself. A few years ago it was the practice of cer- 
tain magazines to avoid extended discussions of 
the present, and to deal with nothing raw or 
recent, so that we were deluged with war- 
papers, and later the doings of "'49ers" and 
"vigilantes 1 ' to more than our heart's content. 
But of late the opposite tack has been taken, and 
the present Napoleonic wave has been anticipated 
by more than six years' preparation, — so we are 
told, by the author and his publishers, — a re- 
markable instance of mind-reading. 

It is not, however, with such large concerns or 
great movements that we have to deal. We only 
aim at a faithful reproduction of our own State, — 
not alone of its past, but of its present, with an 
occasional dip into the future. And to this end 
we expect to enlist the best literary talent procur- 
able in the State, as well as the highest skill of 
the printer and engraver, and the impartial accu- 
racy of the lens. In undertaking this task, we 

are not unmindful of its gigantic possibilities, 
nor yet of the multiform hindrances that lie 
in wait. 

It is a grand responsibility, and a glorious one 
to be undertaken by any one, or by any coterie of 
persons even. We realize fully that it is not pos- 
sible for a book or a play to command as large an 
audience as a magazine may in time. This is 
distinctly the magazinic age. The successful 
magazine circulates by thousands ; hundreds of 
thousands in some instances. It is the arbiter of 
its own fate, largely, for by its intrinsic merit it 
wins — by careful editorial supervision and 
capable management. It is interesting to know 
how this success is attained: not by cheapness, 
nor by sensations which are relegated to the daily 
and weekly press, "read to-day, and dead to- 
morrow." It is perhaps due, and only due, to the 
fact that the successful magazine caters to the 
public by giving it just what it wants ; by suiting 
the taste of the majority of its readers, and more 
often, sad to relate, by following every whimsey, 
fad, and fancy that may be passing, ready to ap- 
plaud it one moment and dissect it the next. 
Editors thus become sensitive barometers of 
public opinion and public taste. The editor is in 
closer touch to-day with his readers than for- 
merly, and does not set himself upon a pinnacle 
or a tripod, but comes down familiarly among his 
brothers and sisters on mother earth. 

"We" are not proud. We shall welcome rea- 
sonable suggestions for making the magazine 
better every issue. In this way all readers and 
contributors will "help edit" the magazine, as a 
matter of state, as well as local, and personal 
pride. Any honest criticism will be appreciated. 
Do not be offended, however, if we are as free 
and frank with you, in editing your manuscript. 
The reader can not realize the value - of an occa- 
sional suggestion to the average editor or 
publisher, nor how quickly it is acted upon. 

With this brief eulogy on our undertaking, we 
cordially ask your co-operation and enthusiastic 
interest and support. We believe that our maga- 
zine possesses unique features and intrinsic 
interest sufficient to win your suffrages and 

8 4 


We are permitted to pre- 
sent to our readers the 
"THE THOMAS following felicitous and just 
HOOKER OF tribute to the merits and 
TO-DAY." services of the reverend pas- 
tor emeritus of the Center 
Church, Dr. Walker, by one 
of the prominent parishioners of that church who 
knows whereof he writes; it was the outcome of 
a conviction that occurred to him, as well as 
to many others at that time and since, and which 
he has expressed in glowing words worthy to be 
treasured by all who know and love the doctor 
for his blameless daily life — an example that 
many follow, — and for his generally lovable 
qualities. We can not refrain from giving this 
deserved tribute its proper place, when the 
opportunity offers, knowing that all his friends 
will sanction the sentiments therein expressed: 

"One who enjoyed the rare pleasure of listen- 
ing, in October last, to the discourse upon the life 
and character of Thomas Hooker, the first pastor 
of the First Church in Hartford, preached by his 
last but one, successor, the Rev. Doctor George 
Leon Walker, will not fail to recognize in his 
tribute to the elder, the very traits and qualities 
which distinguish the character of the speaker 
himself. These are portrayed with rare felicity 
and fitness in the following extract from Dr. 
Walker's discourse: 

1 He was, indeed, progressive and innovative in 
his time ; but he progressed only where he 
thought truth led him; and innovated only 
against what his reason and conscience pro- 
nounced wrong. Just where, in any theologi- 
cal divisions of the present time, Mr. Hooker 
would be found, I do not pretend to know or to 
conjecture. But sure I am, his position would 
be assumed with full intelligence of the facts 
and arguments of the case ; and once assumed 
would be clearly and powerfully maintained. 
As steadfast for the true, as resolute against 
the false, he would be to-day no weather-cock 
of every whiffling wind, but a man to be reck- 
oned with and relied upon, as one sympathizing 
with all that is good; accepting all that is 
clearly proved; rejoicing in everything enlight- 
ening and enlarging in human thought; as a 
scholar, catholic, generous, honest ; as a minis- 
ter, wise, inspiring, and uplifting toward the 
beautiful, good and true." 

"The moral and intellectual equipment of Dr. 
Walker, as shown by his life and his public utter- 
ances, at home and elsewhere, are illustrative 
and declarative of just the sort of material out 
of which Thomas Hooker was moulded. During 
the entire time of his New England ministry, Dr. 
Walker has been classed among the fearless and 
progressive men of his time ; conservative, but 
courageous and tolerant, independent and 
aggressive, but always kindly and charitable, he 
has gained and maintained an influence both local 
and general, which few men can hope to attain. 
Dr. Walker easily reaches the status of a great 
preacher. His pulpit manner is dignified and 
restful. One never feels that he is exploiting 
himself, but that he is about the work of the 
Master ; the subject in hand engrosses and 

possesses him. His voice is sympathetic and 
commanding, like his presence. His diction is 
strong, direct, and persuasive. His sermons are 
constructed on an orderly plan, having a 
sequence from the beginning to the end. One 
conversant with the working of his mind would 
assume that the great preacher could as certainly 
win renown in the other conspicuous arenas — 
jurisprudence, commerce, science, or statesman- 

"Dr. Walker is still in the prime of his mature 
years. The vigor of his cultured intellect is 
manifestly unabated. After struggling long, and 
heroically with some physical infirmities, he has 
been obliged reluctantly and to the great regret 
of his people, to relinquish the care and responsi- 
bility of a full pastorate. That they can still 
occasionally hear his voice and avail themselves 
of his kindly and sympathetic offices, is a source 
of pleasure and comfort to his friends and 

"It will be gratefully remembered by the citi- 
zens of Hartford, that Dr. Bushnell and Dr. 
Burton, besides being faithful as pastors and 
teachers, were both constantly alive to the 
interests of the city and the State. Dr. Bushnell 
has left upon its landscape, for all time, an in- 
delible imprint of utility and beauty, in the very 
heart of the State Capital, that entitles him to 
perpetual remembrance and gratitude. Dr. Bur- 
ton's sympathies were as broad and unfailing as 
the needs and claims of humanity. Dr. Walker's 
watchful and sympathetic interest in the welfare 
of the city and the commonwealth is widely 
recognized ; his alert and constant championing 
of the oppressed and neglected among all God's 
creatures, is a powerful rebuke to selfishness, 
partisanship, and illiberality whenever mani- 
fested — always quick to assume the responsibili- 
ties of the truest and highest type of citizenship ; 
while his prudence and true conservatism lead 
him to avoid extremes and sensationalism." 

A year ago the present 
winter, a literary club was 
"UNCUT established in New York, 

LEAVES." Boston, Chicago, and other 
cities large and small, enti- 
tled "Uncut Leaves," where 
local authors might meet and discuss their pro- 
ductions before publication, with that end and 
aim in view eventually, in order -to obtain the 
collective criticism of their brother authors. 
They met only once a month, when each member 
read or had read for him, his best work of the 
month last past. Whether there were any open 
criticisms or not, the author could judge by its 
reception, tacit and unspoken though it might 
be, how it would affect the general public. 
One production from each member, or from 
selected members, consumed the first part of the 
evening ; the latter part was devoted to so.cial con- 
verse. Strangers were admitted on the invitation 



of members; some of them were publishers 
and editors, looking for new material for their 
periodicals, and some were simply critics and 
connoisseurs, while others were amateur writers. 

At one time the organizer of this club arranged 
to have some of his " literary lights" appear in 
Hartford, in original unpublished readings from 
their own works, but for some reason they did 
not come. A local writer contributed to the 
Times, over the name " Yriarte" a list of Hartford 
writers eligible for membership in such a club, 
which he said was the result of a wager that he 
could not name fifty authors in the city. The list 
is curious, to say the least, and we give it place, 
in his own words : 

"A rough classification is given, simply for pur- 
poses of comparison, and in some cases a name is 
given in two or three classes, showing versatility. 

1. Fiction : Mrs. Stowe, Mr. Clemens, Mr. 
Warner, Miss Trumbull. ("Annie Elliot"), Mrs. 
Annie Trumbull Slosson, Mrs. Florine Thayer 
McCray, Miss Emily M. Morgan. II. Drama : 
Mr. William Gillette. III. History and Criti- 
cism : Rev. Dr. Geo. Leon Walker, Prof. 
Williston Walker, Rev. Dr. E. P. Parker, Dr. J. 
Hammond Trumbull, Rev. Dr. Joseph H. 
Twichell, Prof. W. D. McCracken, Mr. Charles 
Hopkins Clark, Mr. Forrest Morgan. IV. 
Poetry: Mr. Richard E. Burton, Mrs. Caroline 
Wilder Paradise, Mrs. Louise J. R. Chapman, 
Miss Emilia Chaese. V. Science ; Prof. Flavel S. 
Luther (astronomy), Dr. M. C. Storrs (medicine 
and surgery,) Rev. Dr. Kimball (evolution), Dr. 
T. D. Crothers (inebriety), Dr. H. P. Stearns 
(insanity). Dr. A. J. Wolff (microscopy), Mr. A. 
D. Risteen (mathematics). VI. Translations, 
Classical and Modern; Prof. Samuel Hart 
(Greek and Latin) Mr. James G. Batterson 
(Greek and Latin, also poems and polemics), 
Miss M. A. Howe ( French ; translator of Rectus' 
" Birdseye View of the World," etc. ), Mr. Juan 
L. Iribas ( Spanish, translator of "Ramona" and 
other works), Mi\ Albert Hathaway (French, 
German, and Russian). VII. Antiquities: Dr. 
Irving R. Lyon (antique furniture), Rev. H. H. 
C. Bingham (lecturer on Mediaeval Art, the 
Minnesingers, etc.) VIII. Sociology: Mrs. 
Isabella Beecher Hooker, Prof. John J. McCook, 
Mr. James G. Batterson. IX. Biblical Study 
and Exegesis: Prof. Chester D. Hartranft 
(higher criticism), Prof. C. S. Beardsley (Biblical 
Exegesis). X. Music and Hymnology: Prof. 
W. S. Pratt, Dr. E. P. Parker, Prof. Samuel 
Hart, Dr. Geo. M. Stone, Prof. C. E. Stowe. XI. 
Pedagogics, Literature and Language : Prof. 
C. E. Johnson, Prof. C. C. Stearns, Dr. Henry 
Barnard, Miss C. M. Hewins. XII. Travels at 
Home and Abroad : Frederick H. Chapin, G. R. 
Thayer, T. Sedgwick Steele, Mrs. Isa Carrington 
Cabell, Rev. E. Payson Hammond, Rev. Dr. Geo. 
M. Stone, and numerous lecturers. 

''But to what end is all this list of Hartford's 
distinguished lights in the literary field, all of 
whom have written more or less ? Simply this ; 
if Hartford was not so exclusive and select, so 
formal, conservative and unprogressive, it is safe 
to say there are enough ability and talent, 
together with much that is unrecognized but 
able, to make a first-class literary and social club 
among the above named and like people, that 
would be not only an honor but a benefit to 
themselves and the city. We do not mean a 
mutual admiration society — for that is impos- 
sible in Hartford Hartford has the 

name of a literary city. Why then should it not 
uphold that name, and prove it to be true?" 

There is the germ of a good suggestion in the 
above remarks. We have looked over his list 
and find some have removed from the city, and 
some would not care to be included in the cast- 
iron formulae as above, but would claim for them- 
selves greater versatility and originality. This 
list will not cover hall the authors in the city. A 
round hundred could be named, many of whom 
would, perhaps, be glad to belong to such a club. 

Hartford is an older publishing center than New 
York. A hundred years ago, in the days of the 
" Hartford Wits," occurred the golden age of our 
city's literature. One of our contributors points 
out the second period of literary activity, "in the 
seventies" of the present century. But, at the 
present time, beyond professional literary people 
who do not live here much of their time, Hartford 
authorship is practically at a standstill, saving an 
occasional book or booklet. Outside of the class 
of fiction-writers named above, an occasional 
work from Dr. Walker or Dr. Twichell, (two of 
the best writers in New England in the line of 
history,) we have practically nothing to show of 
late years. What is the reason ? 

In New York, Dr. Titus M. Coan is making- 
heroic efforts to stimulate interest in the '* Ameri- 
can Author's Guild," which is the new name for 
the " Association of American Authors." The last 
name chosen is better than the first, because the 
guild idea better indicates the objects of the 
organization, which are, to serve authors in ad- 
visory ways, co-operate with publishers, secure 
extensions and modifications of copyright laws, 
promote a fraternal spirit, and generally to ad- 
vance the interests of American authors. There 
are a good many more authors than the general 
public realizes: and few of them, it must be said, 
are as good business men as their publishers. 

The Connecticut Quarterly offers its pages 
freely to Hartford writers, as to those through- 
out the State, under the very limited restriction 
that they give their best work to it ; since we are 
determined to become, as one author expresses 
it, '*the mouth-piece of the State," not only in a 
literary but in a historical way. If such a club is 
started in Hartford — and there is no better time 
than at, or near the beginning of the year — we 
shall cheerfully co-operate in its aims and efforts, 
and may, incidentally be able to offer some sug- 
gestions that will help place it on a permanent 
footing, to make it eventually an honor to the 
oity, a credit to itself, and a source of delight to 
visiting authors Irom other cities who may share 
its hospitality or give readings under its 

An adequate history of the 
State of Connecticut, does not 
AN ADEQUATE exist. Peters's is pugnacious 
STATE and pernicious ; Sanford's 

HISTORY. and Johnson's, while modern 
and methodical, are only hand- 
books suitable for schools or 
the shelves of the average man who does not care 



much for his State ; and Hollister's, while still 
standard, is growing passe each year and less val- 
uable. We have, indeed, but fragments so far, 
barring these tew general histories and others we 
might name. "The Memorial History of Hart- 
ford County," as well as the histories of New 
Haven and Windham Counties, were masterly 
works, but they covered only one county. Such 
a work, extended to other counties, would be 
entirely satisfactory; but there is no pecuniary 
inducement, nor sufficient local pride, to justify 
an enterprising publisher in going to such an 
enormous expense. Hence, a comprehensive and 
thorough-going history of the State has not been 
placed before the public. Its compilation is too 
gigantic a task for one man to attempt. The 
commonwealth is too old, too rich in details, his- 
torical, genealogical, political, and otherwise, to 
be compassed by one man properly, in an or- 
dinary life-time. It must be done by concerted 
effort and application. 

It goes without saying that our historical rec- 
ords are daily becoming more and more indistinct 
and undecipherable, and soon will be irrecover- 
able. But, our past has been too rich in incident, 
too unique in interest, too influential in the 
history of the country at large, to be lost, 
through inattention and neglect. While much 
lias been done in preserving intact the history of 
the older and larger towns, many, because of 
later settlement, or from poverty of incident, 
have been passed by, but which can furnish ma- 
terial that when well digested, is of just as much 
importance as the histories of the larger towns 
and cities. All this material can, and should, be 
properly compiled, arranged, and published in 
attractive and readable form, for future use, and 
in systematic order. If it is not worth doing well 
it should not be attempted at all. 

It is our intention to publish just such a work, 
covering the entire State eventually, in the pages 
of this magazine. It will not be in due chronolog- 
ical order and sequence, as one might suppose, 
for that would be tedious; but the history will 
gradually "evolve" itself from the wealth of 
material we shall publish; and all the small pieces 
of craftsmanship will gradually slip into place, as 
the queerly dove-tailed parts of a Chinese puzzle 
are assembled. In this way, we hope to treat of 
the entire State in all its historical, political, 
statistical, economic and progressive aspects and 
features. The whole history will be properly 
presented and progressively developed, provided 
we have sufficient encouragement and co-opera- 
tion. We need the co-operation of every man, 
woman and child in the State (for the children 
will perhaps be men and women before the work 
is completed), to attain our objects. 

We propose, first, to publish a series of descrip- 
tive articles of various places, in much the same 
fashion as some in this issue ; these will be, for 
the present, sparingly interspersed with the his- 
torical papers ; lastly will come a general survey 

of the State, and, if time and space are allowed, a 
genealogical history, completing Hinman ''Puri- 
tan Settlers of Connecticut " ; down to Revolu- 
tionary days. 

There are those who will 

criticise a new venture for 

PERSONAL being too "froward" and 

JOURNALISM, positive in its "make-up." 
This is natural, but we live 
in progressive days, in which 
if one is not self-assertive and independent, he 
will lag behind the procession and find it difficult 
to recover his place in it. While our magazine 
is. perhaps, unduly self-conscious in its first 
issue, and in its "new dress" feels rather con- 
spicuous, and withal proud and pretty; this 
newness and rawness will wear off after we have 
had time to fully explain our raison d' etre, 
develop our present plans, and outline our future 
policy. It is necessary to be a trifle assertive in 
order to make ourselves heard and felt all over 
the State, and more than that properly under- 
stood. In this issue, however, we have simply 
outlined, indicated, and put in leading-strings 
our various departments and their conductors ; 
we hope to show progress and improvement in 
future issues, and to add other features which 
will be of interest and value. But we will not 

One thing is noticeable ; we have required all 
articles and contributions to be signed, as we 
believe in personal journalism; life is so short, 
art so long, opportunity so infrequent, and fame 
so precarious, that few really reach the reputa- 
tion and reward they deserve. Thereby hangs a 
tale: A generation since, James Russell Lowell, 
then editing the Atlantic Monthly, took a pro- 
digious fancy to a brilliant young Irishman 
named Fitz-James O'Brien, publishing for him in 
the Atlantic, the remarkable stories: "The 
Lost Room," and "The Diamond Lens." At that 
time the Harpers would not allow American 
writers to append their names to their work, 
extending this right to English writers only. 
O'Brien would have none of this. A volume of 
Harper's Monthly for 1860, shows that Thack- 
eray, Anthony Trollope, George Eliot, and Fitz- 
James O'Brien were equally honored in this 
respect, and American literature began to breathe 
freely. The privilege conceded to him is now 
freely recognized; many editors now insist on 
signed articles. This change, the working maga- 
zine and newspaper men of to-day owe to O'Brien 
more than to any other man. 

Again, we wish to accord to all our contribu- 
tors the widest liberty of expression and opinion 
— of course over signatures — governed by pru- 
dence, wisdom, and refinement. Wherever an 
evil is to be corrected, a good to be espoused, a 
right to be championed, there we hope to be in 
the midst. Whatever builds up the common- 
wealth or any part thereof, in a moral or intel- 



lectual aspect, that we shall advocate with heart 
and soul; and we ask our contributors to do 
likewise when writing of any place or portion of 
the State ; if a town is slovenly and rakish, do not 
hesitate to say so, and cry out for a village im- 
provement* society ; if it lacks mental pabulum, 
moral fiber, or intellectual stimulus, preach and 
pray for whatever is lacking to make it better ; of 
course within the bounds of reason and modera- 

Tims, in this issue, we give considerable space 
to strong pleas from our musical critic for a mu- 
sic hall and a musical library, both of which are 
greatly needed. Again, Dr. McManus has also made 
a special plea for a new and attractive opening to 
our park system from the main street (and this, 
let us add, is not in the interest of any landlord 
or real estate proprietor, but wholly gratuitous 
and public-spirited on his part), which we hope 
will be heeded. Our present park is little more 
than a cul de sac or "vermiform appendix," with 
no fitting entrance from the main street. Let us 
have a wide and liberal opening to the present 
park on Main street, abutting on the famous 
Center Church burying ground at one side, which 
should be improved to correspond. A person 
.standing on Main street can then command a 
lovely view of the Little river in its windings 
through the park ; while alongside of the river 
should be a driveway to the Arch, and beyond to 
the depot. This opening or "approach" should 
have a new name ('• Bushnell Place," perhaps), at 
least be changed from the unhallowed name 
of Gold street, which savors too much of gamb- 
ling. Moreover, now that the acceptance of the 
park system is evident, and a new park commis- 
sion ample for the purpose is to be appointed, let 
us caution the gentlemen thereof not to entrust 
the laying-out of the parks to any inexperienced 
landscape-gardener. The name of Frederick Law 
Olmsted naturally comes uppermost in one's 
thoughts, as the most competent in the country ; 
and besides is not Hartford his birth-place and 
former home? He would certainly take great 
pride in beautifying his birth-place, and thus 
leaving a monument to his memory that will 
endure for ages. 

Lastly, let the bicycle clubs see to it that a 
bicycle path or "wheel-way," be laid alongside of 
the boulevard, connecting the parks— and they 
cannot insist upon and arrange for this too early. 

which is, we find, a very important element at 
the inception of a new magazine. Most of the 
work preparatory to the printers was done inside 
of a month — which is not a remarkable fact if we 
had had a settled staff of contributors and a fully 
developed policy. It had to be assembled out of 
its inchoate condition piece-meal, minds made to 
meet on various purposes and projects, contribu- 
tions accumulated sufficient to start it ; finally 
the editorial work was done at white-heat and 
the illustrations finished on short time. Add to 
all these unexpected balks in getting it ready, we 
waited for our new dress of type for nearly a 
month, to be cast and forwarded, as the foundry 
was crowded with orders which it was unable to 
fill. We had hoped to steal upon the public 
almost unannounced, in holiday times, — a sort of 
surprise and Christmas present to the State, — 
but it was not to be. At any rate we hope it will 
be just as gratefully received and read now as it 
would have been during the hurly-burly of holi- 
day times. 

We are asked various questions of late : "Will 
it be a success? " It is already a success— and 
you know "nothing succeeds like success." 
"Will it not 'fold its tent like the Arab, and 
silently steal away' ? " The publishers' assurance 
and guarantee is sufficient answer to that. "Is 
it not too good to last ? " No, dear reader, we 
have carefully provided against that, by making 
it just so good and no better. We have tried to 
make it as attractive as — for instance, a subur- 
ban car — and intrinsically as dainty, pleasant, 
and lovable as — old lavender, or old lace,— with 
a faint, all-pervasive aroma of antiquity to flavor 
it. We want to make it so good that all who 
read it will fall in love with it, and then our 
whole aim will have been accomplished. A 
glance at our announcements and list of contrib- 
utors, will convince all that it will not be local or 
centralized, but that the whole boundless State 
is ours. 

A word of promise ; not of 

apology, which is hardly ever 

A WORD in order; and yet if we 

OF promise too much it will be 

PROMISE. worse than apologizing for 

our present shortcomings. 

To-morrow the critics will 

begin ; that is inevitable ! Well — let them ; we 

have done our best, under given circumstances ; 

the chief hindrance has been the lack of time 


" Other slow arts entirely keep the brain, 
And therefore, finding barren practicers, 
Scarce show a harvest of their heavy toil." — Shakespere. 


A chiefs amang ye takin' notes 
And, faith, he'll prent it." — Burns. 

New York City, Jan. 15, 1895. 

The opera season has opened auspiciously, and 
continues to date successfully, with fair attend- 
ance, better indeed than last year. It is safe to 
gauge the success of any dramatic season by the 
patronage bestowed upon the opera ; but there is 
really little affinity between those who attend the 
opera and the class that prefer pure drama. 

The company which sung at the Metropolitan 
last season was selected with great care and intel- 
ligence ; but it is not to be expected that the 
metropolis will accept the same thing unchanged 
a second time. However good the old, the public 
is not content, but must have novelty. A few 
members of the present organization have been 
heard in seasons past, but others are entire 
strangers, and this furnishes the element of 

Miss Sybil Sanderson, the fair Californian, has 
studied under Leoncavallo, Massenet, and 
Marchesi. She made her debut at the Hague 
under the name of Ada Palmer, and her Parisian 
debut in Massenet's " Esclarmonde" in 1890. at 
the Opera Comique, and in 1891 scored a triumph 
in " Manon." One year later Saint-Saens wrote 
"Phryne" for her. Last autumn she appeared in 
Massenet's " Thais," taken from Anatole France's 
novel of the same name. 

Zelie de Lussan. the Carmex of the present 
company, has been here before, but went to Lon- 
don with the Carl Rosa Opera Company. To play 
" Carmen " here after Calve's triumphs in the role 
is tempting fortune bravely ; but she has ap- 
peared before Queen Yictoria several times in 
" Carmen," and has met with great success in 
this as well as in other operas. 

Miss Lucille Hill is an American, and a pupil of 
Mine. Marchesi. After leaving Paris she was en- 
gaged by D'Oyley Carte for the leading part in 
" Ivanhoe," and attracted the attention of Sir 
Augustus Harris (the "Abbey of London"), who 
engaged her for his grand opera force at Covent 
Garden. Mile. Eugenie Mantelli was born in 
Milan. Last winter she sang in St. Petersburg, 
her repertoire including such parts as Amneris in 

"Aida," Dalila in "Samson and Dalila," and 
Ortrud in "Lohengrin." 

Yictor Maurel is the one whom Verdi had in 
mind when he wrote " Fal staff," one of the new 
works to be given this season at the Metropolitan. 
" Otello," "Rigoletto," " Brnani," "William 
Tell," and " The Huguenots." are also favorite 
operas of his. The appearance of Francesco 
Tamagno, here a few seasons ago as a member of 
the Patti company, is still fresh in the minds of 
music-lovers. Mile. Mira Heller is a native of 
Poland, studied in Yienna under Mine. Pauline 
Lucca and began her career in Italy. Mme. Libia 
Drog, who made such a queer contretemps from 
stage-fright, on her first appearance here, has 
since met with a decided success. She is a Vene- 
tian and has had much experience in the opera 
houses of the continent. So much for the per- 
sonnel of the strangers ; now for their achieve- 
ments so far this season. 

Thus far, the season has seen the production of 
the operas "Otello," "Lohengrin," "Rigoletto," 
"Romeo et Juliette," " William Tell," "Aida," 
(twice), "Carmen," "Lucia di Lammermoor," 
"II Trovatore," and "Faust" (twice). Last 
winter, the last-named opera, with the "Ideal" 
cast was the piece de resistance during the season. 
This year "Faust" has been succeeded in the 
popular favor, I think, by " Otello," which, with 
M. Maurel, Eames and Tamagno, appears to be as 
" Ideal " from an operatic stand-point as possible. 
There is probably no greater baritone living to- 
day than Maurel. and his character study of Iago 
is, musically, what Booth's was and Irving's is, in 
the dramatic domain of the world. In "Otello" 
Maurel has met with the most enthusiastic recep- 
tion in New York, as he has from the audience of 
every civilized nation of the world during the 
past twenty-five years. Emma Eames" Desdemona 
is a study in grace, simplicity and sweetness. 
Her personality is as magnetic as when she first 
won our hearts, and her voice is the same limpid 
crystal spring of transparent beauty. Signor 
Tamagno is considered one of the greatest drama- 
tic tenors in the world, and in the impassioned 
role of "Radames"in "Aida"he rises to heights of 
emotion which are wonderfully realistic. 

As Arxoldo in " William Tell," Tamagno scored 
a great success on the night that Mme. Drog made 
her embarrassing "lapsus memoriag " in the role of 



Mathilde. Of Jean and Edouard de. Reszke, I 
need hardly speak. The first is the acknowledged 
leading tenor on the operatic stage, and his work, 
even to the minutest details, evidences the great- 
est study and the genius of a master. His roles 
a^re legion and each one seems absolutely perfect 
until he appears in the next. This year he has 
thus far been heard in " Romeo et Juliette," 
"Faust," "Carmen" and "Lohengrin." You 
may remember that a grand revival of " Romeo et 
Juliette " took place at the Grand Opera, Paris, 
about seven years ago. In this notable produc- 
tion Mme. Adelina Patti was the Juliette and 
Jean de Reszke the Romeo. Since then the opera 
has not seemed to be as popular as many others : 
hence we have had it sung but seldom. 

M. Edouard de Reszke's repertoire is as exten- 
sive as his brother's, and his voice, a deep, sonor- 
ous basso, is thought by many to be as fine in the 
lower register as his brother's in the higher. 
Mephistophele in "Faust" is Edouard de Reszke's 
great character, and a more Satanic, grim, and 
forbidding picture of cunning and sin would be 
hard to find. Of magnificent physical propor- 
tions, and Avith a nimble, quick action, he sug- 
gests the ruler of Milton's "Paradise Lost" to 
the life. 

In closing, let me mention briefly the triumphs 
that have attended the performances of Mme. 
Melba, the Australian nightingale, who a few 
short years ago went to Mme. Marchesi unknown 
and left her a famous, world-renowned artist. 
Her greatest character with us is Marguerite' in 
" Faust," and it is impossible to conceive of a 
gentler, lovelier, or a purer maid than* she makes 
the unfortunate heroine of Goethe's romance. 

Physically and vocally she is par excellence in the 
part, and as the curtain descends on the prison- 
scene in the last act, and one sees the hosts of 
angels transporting the body of the sin-stained 
maiden who "loved not wisely but too well," 
there is hardly one in the audience who does not 
almost instinctively send up a mental prayer to 
Heaven that her soul may be received within the 
gates of that eternal kingdom where grief and 
sorrow are changed into notes of joy and gladness 
in the happy company of the elect. 

In this connection it is pertinent to remark 
that a Mrs. Grannis, who is a former Hartford 
woman, has opened a crusade against the decol- 
lette gowns worn by the society leaders in the 
opera boxes. She contends that the display is 
even worse than that seen on the stage, and that 
the ballet is no more immodest. It is perhaps a 
bid for a passing notoriety, suggested perhaps by 
Lady Henry Somerset's crusade against the 
music halls and living art tableaux. At any rate, 
it furnishes a spicy tid-bit for society gossip. 

On December 19 the " Mes- 
siah" was given at Foot 
THE Guard Hall, by the Hosmer 

MESSIAH. Hall Choral Union, under the 
direction of Mr. Paine. The 
large and enthusiastic audi- 
ence was sufficient testimonial both to the popu- 
larity of the work and the excellence of its per- 
formance. It is not my intention to give any 
detailed criticism of the concert, but rather to 
call attention to the peculiar position occupied 
by this oratorio in the history of music. 

The " Messiah " marks an epoch both in the de- 
velopment of the oratorio and in the life of its 
composer. It was written in 1741, in the fifty- 
sixth year of Handel's life. Until this time he 
had devoted himself almost exclusively to the 
production of operas and other secular forms of 
composition, and no amount of failure seemed 
sufficient to turn his efforts in the direction in 
which his peculiar genius best fitted him to suc- 
ceed. The contrast between these long years of 
unsuccessful struggle, and the unbounded en- 
thusiasm with which the " Messiah " was received 
must have shown him his mistake, for after writ- 
ing it not a single opera was produced by him, 
but all his more important choral works, secular 
as well as sacred, were written in the form of ora- 
torios. Most of these met with immediate and 
complete success, and gained for their author the 
musical pre-eminence which had so long been the 
object of his ambition, and which has endured to 
the present day. 

The influence of the "Messiah" on the devel- 
opment of the oratorio is very significant. As 
originally designed and developed, in the early 
Italian stage of their history, oratorios had no 
place outside of the services of the church, being 
used much as the modern " praise-service,"— to 
draw a crowd. After its introduction into Ger- 
many and its adoption by the Lutheran church, 
its form assumed more definite proportions, and 
its artistic growth was rapid, but it was still 
looked upon as only an elaborate church service. 
This appropriation by the church was necessary 
for the early development of the oratorio, but had it 
continued, and had the oratorio never been heard 
outside of* the church the loss to the intellectual 
and artistic life of the people would have been 

Handel gave to the oratorio a broader and more 
independent existence, and made it a part of the 
daily life of the people. This he accomplished 
chiefly by means of the " Messiah." When 
"Esther," his first English oratorio, was produced 
in 1732, the public was so ignorant of this style of 
writing that it was necessary to explain in the an- 
nouncement that the oratorio was " to be per- 
formed by a great number of voices and instru- 
ments There will be no acting 

on the stage The music to be 

disposed after the manner of the Coronation 



From this time until 1741, Handel composed 
" Deborah," "Athaliah,' "Saul," and "Israel in 
Egypt," so that while none of these works were 
popular at the time, the public must have gained 
some familiarity with this form of composition. 
At least, when the "Messiah" was finally pro- 
duced, it was considered unnecessary to explain 
the difference between opera and oratorio. The 
reception given this work, both on its first appear- 
ance in Dublin and its repetition in London, was 
extremely enthusiastic. It is claimed that it was 
upon this latter occasion that the custom of 
standing during the "Hallelujah Chorus" origi- 
nated, the audience being so moved by the 
phrase, " for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth " 
that all present, including the king, involuntarily 
rose to their feet. The "Messiah" at once as- 
sumed a position in tiie mind of the public that is 
both unique and suggestive. The proceeds of the 
first performance, £400, was devoted entirely to 
charity, and from that time to this no one work 
has done as much for the poor and the unfortu- 
nate as the " Messiah." Handel himself presented 
the score to the Foundling Hospital, and from 
1750 to 1759, the year of his death, conducted 
eleven performances of it for the benefit of this 
institution, the proceeds from which amounted to 
nearly £7,000. 

The influence of the " Messiah " upon the re- 
ligious life of the people, although not so easily 
estimated, must certainly have been very great. 
The sermons it preaches sink deep into the heart, 
and are not easily forgotten. No work was ever 
more divinely inspired. Its composer was a 
prophet charged with a distinct mission, from 
which he could in no wise escape, the execu- 
tion of which brought him great reward, and to 
the rest of the world a blessing that shall endure 
throughout all time. 


The recent visit of the Bos- 
ton Symphony Orchestra, and 
HARTFORD some attending circumstances 
MUSICAL suggest the question as to the 
CULTURE. degree of musical culture in 
this city. Given a form of com- 
position which is admittedly 
the loftiest and purest expression of which music 
is capable, and an orchestra so wonderfully or- 
ganized and manned that it is reputed to be the 
best — save perhaps one — in the world, and it 
would seem that the conditions are at once estab- 
lished for making the test. This orchestra has 
been organized fourteen years, has visited Hart- 
ford four times, has always charmed its hearers, 
but never had a full house. It has had four con- 
ductors, and under Mr. Gericke, the second of 
these, it attained the remarkable finish that 
placed it above its competitors. Mr. Nikisch, the 
third conductor, infused a greater degree of 
warmth and passion into the playing, and then it 
became recognized as probably without a peer. 

Three of the Hartford concerts were given by Mr. 
Gericke, stopping on the way to or from New 
Haven, where for several years a series of four 
concerts were given each season. The receipts 
were so small here that Hartford was checked off 
as a town not large enough, or else not musical 
enough to visit again ; so we were not privileged 
to hear the orchestra under the leadership of Mr. 
Nikisch. After an interval of five years, on the 
supposition, probably, that the city had increased 
its population, and had grown musically as well, 
the management made another attempt, but with 
the same result. From this point of view Hart- 
ford is given over as hopeless. On the other 
hand, the musicians expressed themselves as de- 
lighted with their reception, and one of their 
number said to the writer. "You give us more 
applause for the Seventh Symphony, here in 
Hartford, than we get in Boston." 

Hartford has been getting its education in 
orchestral music during the last twenty-five 
years ; for it was in 1869 that Theodore Thomas 
made his first tour of the country with fifty-five 
men. He came here and played to an almost 
empty house ; but scarcely ever afterwards, for 
he held a very warm place in the hearts of music- 
lovers. Commencing with light music, such as 
the " Traumerei " and Strauss waltzes, he soon led 
up to the symphonies of Beethoven, and it is 
almost safe to say that every one, except the 
ninth, has been played here by him. The over- 
tures of Wagner and Weber, too, were first given 
here by him. Season after season he came, and 
left some good result behind him. The elder 
Damrosch came once with an indifferent orches- 
tra, which played roughly and poorly. The 
younger Damrosch came later, with a fine body of 
men ; but without the magnetism of Thomas or 
the impress of his marked personality, he did not 
attract increasing audiences. We waited long 
lor Seidl, and when he gave his first Wagner 
concert, with an array of vocal artists, the house 
was packed and enthusiasm ran high. His subse- 
quent visits were less successful, because of an 
inadequate orchestra ; but his last concert was 
intensely interesting, notwithstanding, for what- 
ever he touches he ennobles by his splendid 
musical temperament. 

The discriminating sense of concert-goers has 
been sharpened by comparing these different men 
and their work, especially in compositions that 
by frequent repetition have become familiar, as 
for example, the Seventh Symphony ; but if we 
give Mr. Paur and his men more applause for this 
work than they get in Boston, let us not forget 
that it was Theodore Thomas who led, not only 
the musical people of this city, but of the whole 
country, up out of the wilderness and taught 
them to love and reverence Beethoven. 

There are about so many people — not enough to 
fill Foot Guard Hall— who may always be depended 
upon to grace with their presence every such rare 
occasion as was the concert by the Boston men — 


a concert which stands for pure musical culture, 
and without the glamour of an expensively 
dressed female singer. There are those who 
easily drop into a scolding mood, and declare that 
Hartford is a slow town, and if one wishes to hear 
music, the only thing to do is to pack a grip and 
go to New York. This is only a partial truth, and 
is entirely in a wrong spirit. Let us rather set 
more agencies at work, at home, to create an art 
sentiment, which, it must be said, does not now 
exist to any great extent ; and out of sentiment 
will eventually grow a deep and abiding principle. 
This principle that art is worth cultivating for 
art's sake, is one that too many who assume 
leadership in musical matters are reticent about. 

The Boston Orchestra sets a good example by 
giving us the able analytical notes by Mr. Apthorp, 
which it uses in all its concerts at home. They 
are of great educational value. The suggestion 
is here respectfully made that some of our daily 
newspapers might add to their popularity by the 
occasional publication of a well-edited column of 
musical miscellany. This service to the public is 
excellently done by the Springfield Republican 
and the fruits are unmistakably evident in all 
that section. With the weekly columns of relig- 
ious items and social notes, the space devoted to 
agriculture, the' daily hints to dress-makers, ama-. 
teur and professional, it would seem that a similar 
attention to music would be an experiment well 
worth making. These notes would be read in 
almost every household, for the interest in music 
is now so general that it might be said " there is 
music in the air " ; but to say that all the people 
interested are well or even fairly informed is quite 
another thing. It is just this difference between 
interest and information which causes the sight 
now so familiar to all who attend orchestral con- 
certs — a house only two-thirds full. 

To speak of the concert of the Boston Orchestra 
in detail at this late day would be superfluous, as 
it has been freely discussed and enthusiastically 
praised by all who were so fortunate as to hear it. 
it was a generous feast of music. It is a rare 
pleasure to hear sixty men, and among them 
many great artists, some of whom play instru- 
ments that could be placed without disparage- 
ment in the Hawley Collection. It was, too, an 
event to be remembered because of the presence 
of the great Belgian artist, Caesar Thomson. We 
may now hope to hear his equally great com- 
patriot, Ysaye, before the season is over. 


The London Saturday Re- 
view gives a juster estimate 
of Rubenstein, lately deceased, 
than any we have encoun- 
tered. The writer remembers, 
as a boy, hearing the great 
pianist, who left an impression that time will not 
efface, and no later pianist has been able to 
eclipse, so we welcome this fair criticism to our 
pages : 

"So much has been written and so foolishly, 
about Rubenstein, that our impressions of the 
man are likely to be a little confused. When we 
calmly examine his actual achievements as a 
pianist and a creative musician, the first thing 
that strikes us is that in neither capacity was he 
in any sense an innovator. He followed so close 
upon Liszt that in piano-forte technique, nothing 
was left him to do. 

" But what Liszt had built up he used in a 
manner that Liszt could not have equalled. 
Liszt's fire — though the statement seems self- 
contradictory — was fire of the intellect ; indeed, 
we may doubt whether he possessed much fire at 
all, whether abnormal keenness of brain rather 
than heart was not his potent characteristic. At 
least his sympathy with the great masters was 
principally intellectual. He recorded them with 
astounding insight, it is true, but from outside ; 
and when he played it was to display himself 
much more than to interpret them. 

"Not so, Rubenstein. He was an emotional 
giant. His emotional nature continually smould- 
ered at a dull, red heat, but when the breath of 
another composer's inspiration blew upon the 
mass it flashed up and the conflagration was 
always impressive and sometimes surprising. He 
then saw the master-works from inside — he made 
us feel that here were the very thoughts and 
emotions of the composer, not of the virtuoso. 
Hence, above all things, he was a great inter- 
preter—perhaps the greatest interpreter who has 

"As a composer he must be ranked much lower. 
He never invented a great melody. Melody he 
had; it flowed in an abundant, pellucid stream, 
and its flavor was frequently piquant, and where 
piquancy without the grander qualities will 
satisfy, then Rubenstein is delightful. His small 
things — those that he probably regarded as of 
little account — are unique and invaluable. But 
his large works simply represent enormous waste 
of energy ; and ten years hence no one will know 
their names. 

' ; Some men speak in prose and some in verse, 
some in marble and some in brass, some in song 
and some in epic, and for the epic Rubenstein had 
no gift, but he sang divine songs." 




•• Chopin is, without dis- 
pute, the Tennyson of the 
piano. The same depth, 
warmth and delicacy of feel- 
ing vitalize every line ; the 
same polish, fineness of detail 
and symmetry of foim, the 
same exquisitely refined yet by no means effeminate 
temperament are seen in both. 

" Each shows us perfect passion, beyond the 
ken of common men, without a touch of brutality, 
intense and vehement emotion with never a hint 
of violence in its betrayal, expressed in dainty 
rhythmic numbers as polished and symmetrical as 
if that polish and symmetry were their only raison 
d' etre. Superficial observers, fixing their atten- 
tion on the pre-eminent delicacy, tenderness, 
elegance, and grace of their manner and matter, 
regard them as exponents of these qualities 
merely, and deny them broader, stronger, sterner 

'•Never was a grosser wrong done true artists. 
No poet and no composer is more profound, pas- 
sionate, and intense than Tennyson and Chopin, 
and none so rarely pens a line that is devoid of 
genuine feeling. Both had the heart and fire and 
tongue of gold. Tennyson wrote the modern 
lyrics of his language, and Chopin the model 
lyrics of his instrument for all posterity." — E. B. 
Parry, in Tiie Etude. 




Unfinished I Once I said, and could it be, 
That some great soul, catching the inspired 

Should dare to make complete the heavenly 
That trembles in that wondrous symphony ! 

For, baffled, to myself I ever ask, 
How should it in its full perfection end? 

Ah, well and true hast thou fulfilled thy task. 
Great Schubert ! Now I know thou didst intend 

To show how strangely sweet one simple air 
Repeated o'er and o'er may grow to be : 

That air is Love's. Oh, who of us would dare 
To say. for man, full ended must it be? 
So list the straight that thrills along the 
While love unpinioned shakes his snowy wings. 
—San Francisco Argonaut. 

In a recent letter to the pa- 
pers, Mr. Henry Irving has 
A NEW MUSIC drawn a careful distinction 
HALL. between theaters, and music 

halls, the latter being, he 
admits. " places of entertain- 
ment," and the former he assures us are not. 
whereupon a London journal takes him to task in 
this wise : 

" The music hall has always existed side by side 
with the more seriously regarded performance 
of stage plays. The circus of antiquity was a 
music hall, and music hall entertainments were 
given in private houses. The modern music 
hall began humbly across the water, [in 
America] ; it has had its vicissitudes but a 
steady progress, and now the best ones pay an 
annual dividend of seventy per centum. They 
are crowded night by night to a point to which 
no theater is crowded, not even the theater in 
which 'Charlie's Aunt' is being given. The 
music hall entertainment is therefore one of the 
accepted facts of the day which we must reckon 
with and endeavor to appraise justly, unless we 
are resolved to be deliberately out of touch 
with received facts. The attitude of Mr. Irving 
and of the conservative play-goers is an impos- 
sible attitude; it will have to be abandoned. 
The music hall is as certain, as serious a fact as 

The music halls of London are conducted on a 
broader gauge than the regular theaters, hence 
Mr. Irving's diatribe. There is as much differ- 
ence between them as between the legitimate 
drama and the broadest farce. They are largely 
responsible for the wave of farce-comedy that has 
overwhelmed this land ; only our sense of humor 
differs from theirs and so our farces differ. It is 
not of this class of music halls that we wish to 
speak, but of broad, generous foundations such as 
the Music Hall in Boston, which is second to none 
in this country. 

There is need of such a Music Hall in this city, 
and has been for years, as has frequently been 
pointed out in the daily press ; and a decided 
movement is making in that direction. Where 
there is so much smouldering disaffection, there 
will sooner or later be a flame. This flame is 
already flickering strongly. There is a definite 
plan drawn for a new opera house in this city to 
be built at no distant date : besides, at least two 

churches are considering the "Auditorium 
plan"; and old Allyn Hall is to be remodeled, 
renovated, and made a comfortable theater or 
farce-hall probably. Surely the leaven is work- 
ing in many directions, and the time seems not 
far distant when the crying need for large halls to 
accommodate growing audiences, shall be satis- 

As our last pages go to press, we learn with 
great pleasure and interest that negotiations, 
which have been for some time pending for the 
purchase of the present opera house, have ended 
in the consummation of a year's option upon the 
property ; if a stock company can now be formed 
within the year, which seems certain, it will be 
renovated, remodeled, reseated, and changed into 
a ground floor theater, Mr. Walter Sanford, the 
artist, Mr. John B. Knox and Mr. E. W. Beardsley, 
prominent insurance people, are the prime movers 
in the enterprise, and are to be congratulated on 
cutting the Gordian knot, by securing this 
option. They are actuated by public spirited 
motives, believing that Hartford needs a modern 
theatre, and that local capital should control the 

Hartford has had a surfeit of "circuit," attrac- 
tions for years ; the same hash of horse-plays and 
hoydenish soubrette farces, coming every year 
not only, but each three or four times in a season, 
until it has grown fearfully monotonous; for a 
month or tw r o at a stretch not a notable play ; 
and in a five or six months' season not a flrst- 
class Shakesperian or romantic-star attraction ; 
and it has steadily grown worse. It has operated 
in driving away the better class of patrons and 
the better class of actors. Let us now hope that 
the new plan will be carried along to a successful 
termination, in spite of all obstacles, be that end, 
one, two, or more years' distant. 

With a ground floor theater, having attractive 
entrances on Main, Church, and Pratt streets (like 
Keith's, in Boston,) and a two-story stage as in 
the Springfield Opera House (for people here still 
like to retire with the ringing of the nine o'clock 
"curfew bell"), it is bound to be a succcess. 
Add to this enterprise the new Fourth Church 
Auditorium (both moderate cost schemes, and 
worthy of cordial support), and we shall be 
amply equipped in the dramatic and musical 
fields for many years to come. We heartily com- 
mend the project as worthy of support. 

The growing tendency of 
most people is to rely too 
NEW much on the verdicts of 

WORSHIP. musical critics, and to attach 
too much importance to their 
opinions. The subject might 
be enlarged to other things in the musical world. 
The tendency of music-lovers towards new wor- 
ship is growing and is becoming almost an evil. 
Several of the musical journals complain of this. 
It is said that last season no one talked in 



London of going to hear "Carmen " or " Faust " or 
" Lohengrin," but it was "have you heard Jean 
de Keszke " in so and so? The same was the case 
with the great conductors Mottl and Richter, 
ticket issue was sold out every time their names 
appeared. There is, of course, not a bit of use in 
moralizing over this fact, but a word of warning 
may not be out of place. 

The popular task is unstable and the popular 
idol is neither immortal nor inerrant. The works 
of art performed, owe their longevity to merits 
more important than mere physical dexterity, and 
they have been tested by severe standards. On 
the other hand, the great composer does not 
always write great music ; the great singer is not 
always in good voice, and the great conductor 
sometimes makes a mistake ; while there are 
hosts of composers, performers and conductors of 
lesser reputation, who can often charm the ear, 
if music and not new worship is the object 
sought, and it only requires for the public to sink 
personality and confess the presence of artistic 
merit, which often exists without a salary of 
$3,000 a night as a remuneration. 


If there is one thing more 
than another that Hartford 
needs, outside of purely 
municipal affairs which will 
take care of themselves, if 
left alone long enough, it is a 
music hall. We have alluded 
to this, in another note, so will defer saying any- 
thing further. Springfield has just decided to 
build a fine music hall and market combined, but 
ours should be better. A rich Bridgeport man 
has lately given $650,000 to Yale to establish a 
conservatory or college of music which will treat 
of only classical music, but ours, if ever built, 
should be for the masses. 

This is not what we started out to say, how- 
ever. What we wished to say was that, secondly, 
in the musical line, Hartford needs, sadly too, a 
public musical library, — which could be a lend- 
ing library of the latest popular music, the latest 
opera scores and librettos, and a reference library 
of classical music of "the Old Masters." A room 
can be devoted to this purpose, in the Athenaeum, 
and even furnished with instruments, if sufficient 
funds are at command. It is not an experiment, 
but has been tried in other places, notably 
Brooklyn. A modest bequest for this purpose of 
$10,000 to $25,000 would furnish sufficient income 
to make the thing practicable at once, and by 
careful purchasing at the end of five or ten years, 
a large and almost complete library in most 
departments of music would be available to all 
students. It should be selected with as catholic 
and intelligent taste and judgment as possible, 
not be confined to any one class, as at Hosmer 
Hall, nor present any particular propaganda in 
the art. In a city where it is impossible to buy 
Beethoven's complete works, and to command 

any wide selection, such a library is a crying 
need. Moreover the donor would reap a lasting 
honor and glory — and it is not necessary for one 
to die to make such a bequest ; in fact, it is better 
to live and enjoy it, and to know how much en- 
thusiasm and profit others can and will derive 
from it. Besides it is a modest bequest— a mere 
bagatelle in fact — and you will not feel it, after 
all ! It is so much better to put your money out 
at intellectual interest in this way. my rich 
friends, then to hoard and save it for lawyers to 
squabble over ; and the rich are fast finding this 
out ! Even Til den, great lawyer that he was, did 
not form a will that could not be broken, as he 
boasted he should. It was only by the merest 
chance that New York secures the great library 
which is to eclipse the squeamish, conservative, 
close-corporation Astor library. 

We like to see brains mixed with beneficence, 
and in most cases in equal quantities, but how 
seldom is this done. There are a certain number 
of beneficiaries that come in for a portion of the 
crumbs that fall when the wills of our rich men 
are opened, and the painful monotony of it is very 
depressing to other objects just as worthy. The 
same old list, the same old bequests, until it is all 
eaten up, and nothing is left for the intellectual 
betterment of the city, in the lines of art, music, 
and literature ; and if perchance anything is left it 
is so pitiably small that it is "only the leavings " 
of the residue, (the "residuum," as one of our 
contemporaries lately had it.) 

The writer is not aiming at any one, nor yet 
aiming at random. It is the experience of at least 
ten years, perhaps more. How much have our 
deceased citizens done for the city in an intellect- 
ual way in the past decade or two, outside of a 
select few who understood its wants and needs, 
in their bequests? How many have even con- 
sidered the wants and needs of the masses? 

As masses go, let it be remembered that Hart- 
ford has invited only the better class of manufac- 
tures, and patronized only the higher grades of 
work, which required skilled and well-paid labor; 
the result is an influx of the better and brainier 
mechanics, who are the "bone and sinew" of the 
land, to quote a trite phrase. How much has 
been done to make them feel at home, to furnish 
them with mental pabulum and stimulus? 

It is true we have the public library, and that is 
a God-send ! It is true we have a new and prom- 
ising science association ; a small art gallery is 
promised ; we have long had excellent schools, a 
college and a seminary. But, bless you, these are 
mostly only late beginnings! Now we have had a 
"rain of parks," to decorate an already showy 
city — plenty of parks for the poor man who can 
not leave the city, for the rich man who will daily 
drive his thorough-breds the length of our broad 
boulevard, and for the great middle-class, who 
can not often afford to drive and must perforce 
look on and envy. But these things are only 
Apples of Sodom, after all, if there are not other 



compensating advantages for the dwellers, and 
those who are attracted here to dwell, — mere 
'•pie-crust" advantages, that will not help the 
city, if more and better enticements are not 
offered in intellectual lines. 

I have perhaps gone beyond my leash, and the 
editor may draw me in bounds again ; but he has 

given me the privilege of some of his own pre- 
rogatives of scolding and carping, which every 
editor enjoys— really enjoys too! So I may be 
forgiven if some of my words do some good and 
strike home to some hearts. If they do not, then 
you will perhaps forgive your music-mad 



Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, 
Wherein he puts alms for oblivion." 

While place we seek or place we shun, 

The soul finds happiness in none 

But with a God to lead the way 

'Tis equal joy to go or stay." — Madame Guion. 

In the jubilee year of our 
country, the ''World's Fair 
PATRIOTIC year," we noted not only a 
SOCIETIES, great revival of patriotism 
but a steady growth of an- 
cestral veneration amounting 
almost to worship. To perpetuate these senti- 
ments as well as to revive them, several societies 
have sprung into existence in late years. 

These societies may or may not have with them, 
by the nature of their organization and attributes, 
the permanency which may be sought for in such 
laudable institutions, actuated by pure patriotic 
zest and deep-seated reverence. It is for the 
future to determine whether they will stand storm 
and stress periods, as have the "Plymouth 
Society," and the "Order of the Cincinnati" 
(founded on the law of primogeniture as to mem- 
bership), or those old and time-tried orders 
founded by the veterans of the civil war who are 
rapidly leaving the stage of action, the "Military 
Order of the Loyal Legion," the " Grand Army of 
the Republic." and other patriotic assemblies. 
Let us hope that their days will be long in the 
land. Surely when one knows the laudable 
motives they foster, the extended researches 
attempted, the spirit of fraternization and its 
feminine synonym among the sister orders, and 
the dignity and solidity of character imposed by 
the requirements of membership, one can not help 
believing that they have "builded better than 
they knew." 

With all these societies, and 
the general efforts of genealo- 
IGNORANCE gists, there is a lamentable 
OF lack of interest among the 

ANCESTRY. generality of folk as to their 
descent from the old colonial 
people from whence they were 
derived in the first days of our fair land ; the 
majority of the American people, it is supposed 
(especially outside of New England), can not, un- 
aided, give their ancestry beyond their own grand- 

parents. Some people, not at all ignorant in 
other matters either, can not tell even the names 
of their grand-parents. How many, indeed, know 
for a certainty, unless there is a well-defined tra- 
dition in the family, whether they had ancestors 
who fought in the Revolutionary war. If they 
are positive about grand-fathers and great-grand- 
fathers in the direct paternal line, how many know 
anything of their ancestry to this extent in other 
lines than the paternal? 

How many of your own grand-parents and great - 
grand-parents can you name off hand, without 
going to the records or to the family Bible? How 
few family Bibles give anything more than the 
immediate family ! These strictures do not apply 
to the East nor to the West, nor to any section, 
particularly, but to the whole boundless continent, 
or its people rather. There is a crass and stupen- 
dous ignorance on such points. And so we say, 
all honor to these patriotic societies for the work 
they are doing in recalling some of the forgotten 
worthies, "the old colonial characters," who were 
after all like those of to-day, very human, and 
subject to the same faults and frailties as people 
of the modern, hurrying, skurrying business world. 

There are those, even in staunch New England, 
who would throw dishonor upon these various 
societies and their motives and aims ; but all of 
these detractors, we feel free to say, would be 
only too glad to be numbered among the member- 
ship of one or more of them. Too often it is a case 
of "sour grapes;" but envy should not breed 
malice and detraction: for if one's ancestors in all 
lines are carefully collated, we believe it will be 
found that the average American of Puritan line- 
age would be eligible to one or more of these 
societies. Indeed, we know it from researches in 
our family and for others who have wished to 
enlist in one or another of them. The writer does 
not seek such distinction, being a modest man, 
and besides can trace his ancestry not only to 
several ensigns, captains, lieutenants, magistrates, 
divines, among the puritans and pilgrims ; but also 



into England, in many noble and royal lines back 
to the Conquest, and still back of that to Charle- 
magne. Pepin the Great. Rollo, Rurik, founder of 
Russia. Basil, emperor of Constantinople, the kings 
of Norway. SAveden. Denmark. Hungary, England. 
Scotland. France, Flanders, Spain, and Italy ; so 
that all the more recent lines of descent are 
dwarfed by comparison ! We are not one whit 
more proud, however, with all this weight of 
ancestry than if we could not trace beyond our 
own grand-fathers and grand-mothers. "A man's 
a man for a' that." Our friend Watkins insists 
that now a "Tory Society" should be started ; or 
if it is too late for that, a "Society of Angloma- 
niacs," which would surely be popular : while our 
young English friend. Templeton, in the Athenaeum, 
insists that nothing can compete with the real 
roast -beef Britishers. But, then every man to 
his taste. 

Wo append reports of the leading state 
patriotic societies, or state branches of national 
societies, covering the past quarter, with, in some 
cases, an account of prior history; for which 
reports we are deeply grateful. One or two 
societies designated, failed to respond in due 
season for publication, and the same privilege is 
extended for the second issue, which we trust 
they will avail themselves of then. 


Forty men assembled in the 
Capitol, at Hartford, on the 

CONNECTICUT second day of April, 1889, for 
SOCIETY the purpose of organizing a 

OF THE SONS society to be composed of the 

OF THE descendants of the soldiers, 

AMERICAN sailors and statesmen of the 

REVOLUTION. Revolution. Among them 
were immediate sons of 
Amasa Clark and Hamilton 
Grant, who served under Israel Putnam. The 
society then organized is now known as the 
Connecticut Society of the Sons of the American 
Revolution. The objects of the Society, as 
officially declared are, to perpetuate the memory 
and spirit of the men who achieved American 
Independence, to encourage historical research 
in relation to the American revolution : to pre- 
serve documents, relics, and records of the 
individual services of revolutionary soldiers and 
patriots ; to mark, by appropriate monuments, 
historic places within this State ; to promote the 
celebration of patriotic anniversaries; and by 
these and similar means, to impress upon the 
present and future generations the patriotic 
spirit which actuated our ancestors and estab- 
lished the republic. 

The anniversary of the capture of Ticonderoga, 
by an expedition set on foot by Connecticut, May 
10th, was fixed upon for the beginning of the 
society year, and at the close of the first year, 
three hundred and twenty-five members had been 
enrolled. The roll of living members now in- 
cludes between eight and nine hundred names, 
and this society is now by far the largest of all 
the societies with which it is affiliated. Connec- 
ticut men will be glad to know that their State, 
which, in proportion to its population, sent the 
greatest number of men to fight the battles of the 

Revolution, is again foremost in associating, to 
honor the deeds of the fathers and to perpetuate 
their spirit. 

The members of the Society meet at dinner on 
the twenty-second of February in each year. 
They generally regard one another with admira- 
tion and respect! Hartford, New Haven, New 
London, Meriden, and Bridgeport have been 
visited in turn, and an invitation to dine at Nor- 
wich in 1895 has been accepted. The old war 
office of Governor Trumbull, at Lebanon, has 
been redeemed from the ignoble uses to which it 
had fallen, and restored, and now belongs to the 
Society. The flag that flies above it, invites the 
visitor to uncover in honor of "Brother Jona- 
than" and the statesmen and the generals and 
the common men of unknown names who also did 
their share, by whose feet the place has been con- 

The Year-Book which will include the proceed- 
ings for the period beginning May 10, 1892, and 
ending May 10, 1894, (the publication of the book 
was omitted last year), is in course of prepara- 
tion. The war history of the revolutionary 
sires of the members constitute a conspicuous 
feature. Prizes, amounting to one hundred 
dollars have been offered to pupils in Connecticut 
schools for excellence in original essays, as 
follows : 

To pupils in high schools, for essays on the 
share of Connecticut in the war of the Revolu- 
tion, one first prize of twenty dollars; six second 
prizes of five dollars each. ' To pupils in schools 
below the grade of high schools, for essays 
on Connecticut Men of Mark in the War of the 
Revolution, one first prize of twenty dollars ; six 
second prizes of five dollars each. Essays compe- 
ting for these prizes are not to exceed two 
thousand words, and must be presented through 
the teachings of the respective schools before 
March 1. 1895. It cannot be vain to hope that the 
studies which these prizes may promote will tend 
to the proper end of all education — the building 
of character. 

The affairs of the Society are directed by a 
Board of Managers, which at the present time 
consists of Jonathan Trumbull, Norwich, presi- 
dent ; Ebenezer J. Hill, Norwalk, vice-president ; 
John Clark Hollister, New Haven, treasurer ; 
Charles Parsons Cooley. Hartford, secretary ; 
Frank Butler Gay, Hartford, registrar ; Joseph 
Gurley Woodward, Hartford, historian ; the Rev. 
Edwin Stevens Lines, New Haven, chaplain : 
Hobart L. Hotchkiss, New Haven: H. Wales 
Lines, Meriden ; Frank Farnsworth Starr. 
Middletown ; Everett Edward Lord. New Haven : 
Franklin Henry Hart, New Haven ; Edgar Jared 
Doolittle. Meriden ; Zalmon Goodsell, Bridge- 
port ; Rowland Bradley Laeey, Bridgeport ; 
Rufus White Griswold. Rocky Hill ; Henry Roger 
Jones. New Hartford; Jonathan Flynt Morris, 
Hartford; Frederick Miles, Salisbury: Oliver 
Humphrey King Risley, Willimantic; Francis 
Taylor Maxwell, Rockville ; Albert Carlos Bates, 
East Granby. Delegates to the National Society : 
Edwin Seneca Greeley, William Erastus Chand- 
ler, New Haven ; John Henry Swartwout. Stam- 
ford; Frank Julian Narramore. Bridgeport: 
Stephen W. Kellogg, Waterbury ; Lucius Frank- 
lin Robinson, Hartford; John Hoyt Perry, 
Fairfield; Alfred Hebard Chappell, New London ; 
Meigs Heyward Whaples. Hartford. 

9 6 


The Society of Colonial 

Wars in the State of Connec- 

SOCIETY OF ticut was incorporated under 

COLONIAL WARS the laws of Connecticut, May 

IN THE STATE 21st, 1893, by the following 
OF gentlemen : — Messrs. Charles 

CONNECTICUT. S. Ward, Charles H. Trow- 
bridge, Nathan G. Pond, Wm. 
Cecil Durand, George M. 
Gunn. Charles M. Tomlinson, Frederick L. Tib- 
bals, Lynde Harrison, A. Heaton Robertson, and 
George H. Ford ; pursuant to a petition for a 
charter, which was granted by the similar and 
elder Society in the State of New York on April 
26th. 1893. 

The first General Court of the Connecticut So- 
ciety was held in New Haven on December 14, 
1893, at which time most of the officers and a 
Council were chosen. An adjourned General 
Court was held in New Haven on May 26, 1894, 
the 257th anniversary of the attack by Captain 
John Mason and his forces on the Pequot fort in 
Mystic. At this time the rest of the officers were . 
elected, and the constitution adopted, about 
thirty-one members of the Society being present. 
The same day the Society dined at the Ansant- 
awae Club-house in West Haven, the Hon. Fred- 
erick J. Kingsbury reading, alter dinner, an ac- 
count of the Pequot War. 

The officers elected at the first General Court 
held December 14, 1893, and by adjournment 
May 2o, 1894 are as follows : Governor, Daniel C. 
Eaton ; Deputy Governor, George Bliss Sanford ; 
Lieutenant Governor, James Junius Goodwin •. 
Chaplain, the Right Rev. John Williams, D. D., 
LL. D. ; Secretary, Nathan Gillette Pond ; Treas- 
urer, Charles Hotchkiss Trowbridge ; Registrar, 
Henry Walton Wessels ; Historian, Morris Wood- 
ruff Seymour. Gentlemen of the Council : 
George Hare Ford, John Edward Heaton, Evelyn 
Lyman Bissell, Charles Samuel Ward, Charles 
Edwin Brown, Charles Abraham Tomlinson, Wil- 
liam Freeman French, Ralph William Cutler, 
Abram Heaton Robertson. Committee on Mem- 
bership : Henry Gleason Newton, William Bud- 
dington Stoddard, Herbert Cleveland Warren, 
Charles Samuel Ward, Ralph William Cutler. 
Committee on Historical Documents : Frederick 
John Kingsbury, Theodore Salisbury Wolsey. 
Rev. Francis Goodwin, George Edward Taintor, 
James Lawrence Chew. 

" The Society of Colonial Wars is instituted to 
perpetuate the memory of the events of Ameri- 
can Colonial History, and of the men who, in the 
military and naval service, and in civil positions 
of trust and responsibility, by their acts or coun- 
sel, assisted in the establishment, defense and 
preservation of the American Colonies, and were 
in truth the founders of the nation. To this end 
it seeks to collect and preserve manuscripts, rolls, 
relics, and records ; to provide suitable com- 
memorations or memorials of events in Colonial 
History ; and to inspire in its members the fra- 
ternal and patriotic spirit of their forefathers, 
and in the community respect and reverence for 
those whose public services made our freedom 
and unity possible." These words are taken 
from the constitution, and clearly declare the 
purport of the Society. 

The second General Court of the Society was 
held at New Haven on Wednesday, December 
12th, at 10 o'clock, in the rooms of the Governor, 
Quinnipiac Club, 986 Chapel Street. The officers 
of the previous year were re-elected, with the ex- 
ception of the Secretary, deceased, and the 
Registrar, Charles Samuel Ward, M. D., of 
Bridgeport, was elected to the office of Secretary, 
and Mr. Frank Butler Gay, of Hartford, Regis- 
trar for the ensuing year. The gentlemen of the 
Council were elected as follows : Hon. Frederick 
J. Kingsbury, Rev. Samuel Hart, D. D,, and 
George Hare Ford, for one year ; Hon. Abram 

Heaton Robertson, General Wm. Buel Franklin, 
U. S. A., and Charles Dudley Warner, for two 
years ; Ralph William Cutler, Hon. Lyman Deni- 
son Brewster and J. Lawrence Chew, for three 
years. Committee on Membership : Hon. Morris 
Woodruff Seymour, chairman, Edward Vilette 
Reynolds, D. C. L., Hon. Henry Gleason Newton, 
Hon. Wm. Hamersley, and Charles Samuel 
Ward, M. D. Committee on Historical Docu- 
ments : Hon. Frederick John Kingsbury, Prof. 
Theodore Salisbury Wolsey, Rev. Francis Good- 
win, Rev. George Leon Walker, D. D., Jonathan 
Trumbull. m ' 

About seventy-five members were present. The 
following are the names of the Hartford members 
of the Society : Hon. Leverett Brainard, Hon. 
Morgan G. Bulkeley, Abijah Catlin, Atwood Col- 
lins, Francis R. Cooley, Jonathan S. Curtis, M.D., 
Ralph W. Cutler, Gustavus P. Davis, M. D., 
Rodney Dennis, Gen. Wm. B. Franklin, Frank 
Butler Gay, Rev. Francis Goodwin. James J. 
Goodwin, Hon. Wm. Hamersley, Rev. Prof. 
Samuel Hart, D. D.. Edward W. Hooker, Clarence 
Catlin Hungerford, Geo. L. Parmele, Henry 
Roberts, Lucius F. Robinson, Arthur L. Shipman, 
Hon. Nathaniel Shipman, Wm. Converse Skinner, 
Rev. Dr. Edward A. Smith, Henry Putnam 
Stearns, M. D., George E. Taintor. Rev. Dr. Geo. 
L. Walker, Rev. Prof. Williston Walker, Charles 
Dudley Warner, Hon. Ralph Wheeler, Jos. Gurley 

At the annual General Court, December 12th, 
Mr. James Junius Goodwin, of Hartford and New 
York, on behalf of the Hartford members, pre- 
sented the Society with two large flags. One was 
a United States flag with a gilt eagle surmounting 
the pole. The other was a flag of the Society, 
made in accordance with the provisions of the 
constitution. The flag has a red cross of St. 
George on a back-ground of white silk. In the 
center is a shield with a bunch of grapes beauti- 
fully embroidered in natural colors. The flags are 
very handsome. 







Ruth VVyllis Chapter. 
The organization of the 
Daughters of the Revolution 
is quite different from that of 
the Sons of the American 
Revolution, in that the dif- 

REVOLUTION ferent chapters receive char- 
IN ters and regulations from the 

CONNECTICUT. National Society at Washing- 
ton, from whence, in the 
-main, came the influence to 
incorporate themselves. Applications for mem- 
bership are forwarded to Washington ; an officer, 
called State Regent, represents the chapters as a 
whole, though her work has chiefly been in 
organizing chapters in different parts of the 
State. Delegates from the chapters annually 
represent the chapters in a conference at Wash- 
ington, where the business of the order is dis- 

Some ladies of patriotic ardor had joined the 
Connecticut Sons of the American Revolution, 
and in February, 1892, others formed the ''James 
Wadsworth Chapter" in Middletown, the second 
in New England, in point of time. The first chap- 
ter, under the auspices of the National Society, 
was formed at New London, October, 1892, and 
called the "Lucretia Shaw Chapter." The third 
in time, and second under the National Society, 
was at Norwalk, December, 1892. The next was 



the -'Ruth Wyllys Chapter," in Hartford, which 
received its name from a lady whose husband 
took part in the Revolutionary War, following 
in patriotic service in the train of his famous 

The meeting to consider organization was 
in November, 1892. through the influence of Mrs. 
De B. R. Keira. of Washington, D. C. The ladies 
who answered the call, agreed to plans of busi- 
ness, and by December 27th, ofllcers and charter 
members were elected and application made in 
form for a charter. The list of oflicers is the fol- 
lowing : 

Regent, Mrs. John M. Holcombe : Vice-regent, 
Miss A. R. Phelps ; Secretary. Mrs. A. H. Pitkin ; 
Treasurer, Miss M. W. Wainwright; Registrar, 
Miss Mary K. Talcott; Historian, Miss Julia B. 

Thus started, the chapter has grown to a mem- 
bership of one hundred and twenty-five, and has 
increased into activity and interest which bodes 
well for the future. Meetings have been held 
with regularity, and at each a "paper on some live 
topic has been read. The list of the topics 
proves this; they are as follows: 1. "Ruth 
Wyllys," by Miss Mary Kingsbury Talcott ; 2. ''On 
the Disappearance of* the Charter." by Miss Mary 
Kingsbury Talcott; 3. "The Boston Tea-party," 
by Mrs. John H. Brocklesby. The author of the 
third paper was a descendant ot one of the par- 
ticipants in that celebrated festivity, and ex- 
hibited some tea-leaves which were brought 
away in the shoes of the rebellious patriot. 4. 
''Washington and Rochambeau, in Hartford," by 
Miss Julia Brattle Burbank ; 5. "Reminiscences 
of the family of Col. Jeremiah Wadsworth," by 
Mrs. Ellen Terry Johnson; 6. " The Origin of the 
Idea of Independence," by Mary Leeds Bartlett. 

A pleasant incident in the chapter's history was 
the reception of their Charter, which was set in 
its frame of Charter Oak wood, decorated with 
acorns and oak leaves, most gracefully carved 
and set. On the 29th of June, 1894, the Sons of 
the American Revolution made an occasion of the 
unveiling of a tablet commemorative of the 
Wadsworth mansion. The house was on Main 
street, on the site of the Athreneum ; it was the 
scene ot hospitalities in colonial and later times. 
Lafayette, Rochambeau, Chatellux, and other 
French officers were entertained there, some of 
them several times; and the patriotism of Col. 
Wadsworth, in itself, deserved recognition ; 
hence the tablet which was unveiled by a 
descendant of Col. Wadsworth, Gen. Warren, and 
Gen. Putnam, and the later speech-making. The 
ladies of the Daughters of the American Revolu- 
tion assisted in the celebration by providing an 
entertainment for the gentlemen and their guests 
in the Athenaeum building, which was thrown 
open for the occasion. 





The last annual meeting of 
this society was held in the 
society's rooms in the Athe- 
naeum, May 22, 1894. At this 
meeting the president. Hon. 
John W. Stedman, declining 
a re-election, Charles J. 
Hoadly, LL. D., was chosen to the office. Reso- 
lutions were passed thanking Mr. Stedman for 
his aid at all times so freely given, noting the 
vigorous growth of the society during the" four 
years of his presidency, and requesting his por- 

trait to place with those of its former presidents. 
This request was acceded to and a fine likeness 
of him in pastel now hangs with the portraits of 
Thomas Day, James B. Hosmer, Henry Barnard, 
and J. Hammond Trumbull. The election of 
Doctor Hoadly to the presidency may be consid- 
ered as a noteworthy event for the society, he 
being no doubt the foremost student of Connec- 
ticut history. In addition to his regular duties 
as librarian "of the State library and editor of the 
early records of the State, he is already doing 
valuable work for the society in editing the re- 
print of the unfortunate third volume of the 
society's "Collection," — the original edition of 
this volume having been destroyed by fire before 
it was received from the printers. The volume 
will contain "Will and Doom," an important con- 
tribution to Connecticut's early history, written 
by Gershom Bulkeley two hundred years ago, and 
never before printed. Volume five of " Col- 
lections," the completion of the Talcott papers 
(begun in Volume four,) has been for some time in 
the press, and may be expected soon. Some 
work has also been done on another volume which 
is to consist of documents relating to Connecti- 
cut in the War of the Revolution. 

The report of donations for the year presented 
at this meeting, showed it to have been the most 
important one in the history of the society; the 
donations of manuscripts alone amounting to 
almost thirty-five hundred pieces, a great 
majority of them being letters written to commis- 
sary Jeremiah Wadsworth during the Revolu- 
tion. More than two thousand books and 
pamphlets were obtained from the library of the 
late Doctor D. Williams Patterson, for the pur- 
chase of which a large amount was subscribed by 
members and friends of the society. The same 
library also yielded a rich collection of unpub- 
lished manuscript genealogies. 

The,first meeting after the summer months was 
held Octob3r second, the new president presiding 
and reading a paper upon the " Case of Katherine 
Harrison, of Wethersfield." Doctor Hoadly's 
thorough knowledge of the witchcraft trials in 
this State enabled him to give a paper which was 
listened to with unusual "interest. The Novem- 
ber meeting, held on the thirteenth, was enter- 
tained with a paper by Charles S. Ensign, LL. B., 
on "Jonathan Gilbert, Hartford's merchant and 
Indian commissioner," in which Marshal Gilbert's 
career was traced and many items given concern- 
ing Hartford's historical spots and early local 
history. At the meeting on December ninth, 
Profes'sor Henry Ferguson read a paper on the 
"Loyalists of the American Revolution." The 
subject was treated in an impartial manner 
and many facts were given showing what the loy- 
alists suffered in support of their belief. After 
the reading of the paper a Bible belonging to Mr. 
S. W. Cowles, of Hartford, was exhibited and was 
remarked upon by Rev. W. De Loss Love. This 
Bible, as stated in'notes written on the margins 
of many pages, was brought to this country in 
the "Mayflower" by Wlllam White, and was later 
the property of Elder William Brewster. Mr. 
James Terry of New Haven, at the same meeting, 
presented to the society, the ancient records of 
the Separatist Church in Canterbury, Connecti- 
cut. The society is adding to its membership 
roll each month, and the present average attend- 
ance at its monthly meetings exceeds sixty. 

QjUUJt C ^cJJOi 



When found, make a note of." — Capt. Cuttle. 

It is a very sad thing that nowadays there is so little useless information." — Anon. 

(In this department we propose to give indefatigable 
genealogists a chance to settle mooted questions that arise 
during their researches and shall welcome all queries, doing 
our best to assist towards a solution, and interesting others 
for the same purpose. As space is valuable, a nominal 
charge will be made of fifty cents for each query and its 
answer, neither to exceed ten lines; the querist pays for the 
answer in this charge, and answers are solicited from all 
sources. We shall also welcome notes, calling attention to 
genealogical finds, sources of data, and new genealogies 
published or in preparation.) 

Abbot. — Who were Susanna Abbot's ancestors? She 
was daughter of Seth Abbot, said to be of Hartford at one 
time ; married Simeon Wright, Junior, and came to Ohio 
early in this century. Simeon was descended supposably 
from the Samuel Wright, grandson of Deacon Samuel 
Wright of Springfield, the emigrant, who came from Massa- 
chusetts to Connecticut, and settled somewhere, but do not 
know where. Have the first two generations of the Abbots 
been straightened out satisfactorily ? Susannah Abbot was 
somehow related to Emma Abbot, the singer, whose father 
was Seth. Susannah was my mother; she removed from 
Connecticut to Addison, Rutland County, Vt.; and when a 
boy I walked from there to Ohio behind a wagon. I am 86 
years old and would like this matter settled while I live. 

Wait F. Wright, Johnstown, Ohio. 

Benjamin. — I want to trace up Samuel Benjamin, the 
Revolutionary soldier, as to his army record, etc. I want to 
get at the records showing when and where he was born, 
where his pension record can be found, etc. Would like his 
family record if I can get it. He was my great-grand- 
father. I want to be in a position to join the Sons of the 
American Revolution and to have my record straight and 
indisputable. When and where did Samuel Benjamin, Sr., 
die. F. H. Benjamin, L. & N. R. R., Louisville, Ky. 

(Will some Granby friend send us a reply. Mr. J. R. 
Hayes or Mr. Harvey Goddard, for instance. — Ed.) 

Hale. — My mother was a Miller of Wallingford, and 
early of East Hampton, L. I. I find her family runs into the 
Halls of Wallingford, and wish to trace back the line to David 
Hall, of Wallingford, who married Alice Hale of Connecticut. 
He died in 1755. On my father's side I run into the Hale 
family of Glastonbury, through the Samuel Hale that was 
early of Glastonbury and Norwalk. The Hales, of Goshen, 
I can not yet find. Can any one help me ? 

Mrs. G. W. Curtis, Hartford, Conn. 

Hale. —The saddle-bags of Capt. Nathan Hale, the 
" martyr-spy," have been discovered in New Britain recently. 
Certain papers that came with them have been mislaid, but 
prove the authenticity of the relic. They came to the pres- 
ent owner recently through ex-Governor Radcliffe of Massa- 
chusetts. We may have something to say of this relic in a 

future issue. The editor is engaged upon the Hale family, 
in the interest of Rev. Dr. Edward Everett Hale, and Mr. 
Edward W. Hale, Sub-treasury, New York, and would be 
glad of any information or data bearing on the family. 

Hoadly. — Mrs. William H. Hoadly, of 78 Ann street, 
now in her Q2d year, distinctly remembers her grandmother, 
who was born in 1713. Mrs. Hoadly was a sister of the 
late Gen. Chas. T. Hillyer, and is the mother of State Libra- 
rian Hoadly and of Francis A. and George E. Hoadly. 

Porter — Mallory — Blackney — Information wanted as 
to the ancestors of Dr. Daniel Porter, whose daughter Eliza- 
beth married Ard. Warner, of Wolcott, Jan. 12, 1764. 
Also ancestors of Thankful Mallory, who married Samuel 
Shepard, of Southington, Jan. 1, 1787. Also ancestors of 
Betsey Blackney, who married Luman Preston, of Plymouth, 
Dec. 25, 1800. James Shepard, New Britain. 

Preston — Holt — Information wanted as to the way the 
first settlers of Plainfield, Conn., came from Massachusetts, 
whether via Stonington, and up the Thames. In this party 
were the Deans, Prestons and Holts; the last named families 
were from Salem and Andover, Mass., and soon left Plain- 
field for Windham. 

Sanford. — I wish to learn, if possible, names of father 
and mother of Mabel Sanford, who married Caleb Street 

(b. 1753 ), son of Samuel and grandson of Lt. 

Samuel. Also information in regard to parents of Sarah 
Atwater, married Samuel Street \ b. 1707), father of Caleb. 
My grandmother was Cornelia Street, granddaughter of 
Caleb. Guy D. Peck. 

28 Broadway, N. Y., Stewart Building, Suite 90. 

Prince. — " Silvester Prince, August 14, 1761." This is the 
inscription on a powder-horn in the collection of the Connec- 
ticut Historical Society at Hartford. Will the donor, or any 
one, who can give anything relative to the history of this 
horn, or its owner, please communicate with me. 
Fred'k W. Prince, 

P. O. Box 387, Hartford, Ct. 

Talcott. — Hartford has a centenarian. Mrs. Emily 
Robbins Talcott, of West Hartford, who attained her 105th 
anniversaiy on Christmas, and is the oldest resident of the 
State. She was nine years of age when Washington died, 
and remembers the draping at Wethersfield, on account of 
that event. She was born on Wolcott Hill, Wethersfield, 
and was married on Christmas day, 1810, to Ansel Talcott, 
who died a few years ago at an advanced age. Hon. Henry 
Barnard, one of the oldest men in Hartford, called on the old 
lady on Christmas. He has seen ten centenarians in his life- 
time, and he still takes an active interest in local affairs. He 
was greatly interested in the Wells celebration, on the 12th of 
December, and assisted in securing Dr. McManus' article 
for our pages, being a contemporary and a warm personal 
friend of Dr. 'Wells. 



Walton — My great-grandfather, Samuel Felch, Jr., of 
Cambridge, born in Reading, Mass., married (i) November 
24, 1743, Eunice Walton and late in life said to have married 
her sister, Elizabeth. Whose daughters were they ? I can 
find nothing of them on Reading records ; on Cambridge 
records I find, "Eunice, daughter of Jacob and Abigail, born 
19th March, 1745-6 : "and marriage of "James Nichols of 
Reading, and Eunice Walton, October 14, 1795." but no other 
Eunice. I think they are of some other town, and that 
their father was probably from inference, named Isaac. — 
The Editor. 

White. — The famous '"Breeches Bible'* mentioned by- 
Mr. Bates in his report, was undoubtedly brought over by 
William White in the Mayflower : printed in London, 1588. 
and in part 15S6 ; Win. White was the father of Peregrine 
White, the first white child born in New England. 

Wixthrop. — Ware. — A Corrected Pedigree. — From 
the Times : Lucy Winthrop was not the grandmother of the 
Rev. Solomon Stoddard. He was the son of Anthony Stod- 
dard, of Boston, whose first wife. Mary, was the daughter of 
the Hon. Emanuel Downing, of Salem, who was a brother-in- 
law of Governor Winthrop, it is true, but Mary was the 
daughter of Emanuel's first wife. Anne Ware. This Anne 
Ware was the daughter of Sir James Ware, who was knighted 
by James I, and was a member of the Irish Parliament in 
1613. This correction of the usual pedigrees appears in the 
Massachusetts Historical Society's collections, Volume VI, 
fourth series, page 40, in the Winthrop letters. An error of 
this kind once in print is copied over and over again. 

" M. K. T. 

We are very glad to be able to make this correct notation 
in our first issue, of Jonathan Edwards' ancestry (see " Old 
Colonial Characters") before going to press. Miss Tal- 
cott is probably the best authority on the first settlers of 
Hartford, in this city ; she has promised the Connecticut 
Quarterly, the right of publication of all her additional 

material which did not appear in the " Memorial History of 
Hartford County. " — which will be gratifying news to our 
readers. — Ed. 

We beg to call attention to the handsome and unique Arms 
"Continuous Family Register," (see advertisement on 
the cover , just issued, which is certainly satisfactory for 
every purpose or need of the average genealogist. We have 
compiled two different varieties of the book, and found it 
adequate in every respect. It is gotten up in a dainty man- 
ner and finely bound. Mr. Arms has spent over a year in 
its preparation and deserves a wide patronage. 

The Editor of this department has also prepared a series of 
blanks which enables one to trace his or her American ances- 
tors in all lines, showing them at a glance ; also shows all 
the descendants of one's emigrant ancestor, in compact form, 
giving each one only a line in which is assembled all the 
essential dates, ( birth, death, first and second marriages), 
place of birth, death, burial, etc.; similar dates for the 
wives, and names of their parents : residence, occupation, 
church, army or navy services, offices held ; will dated, 
proved, amount of inventory; all tJiis on one line, so that 
any missing fact or date can be seen at once, and inserted at 
an}' time. It is, in fact, the most compact, accurate, and 
comprehensive schedule ever prepared. Sufficient blanks 
for a whole family history, or genealogy for 50 cents to $1.00, 
or sample pages for ten cents, can be had by addressing 
Editor Notes and Queries. Conn. Quarterly, Hartford, Conn. 

The Editor of " Treasure Trove " would be pleased to un- 
dertake investigations, in England or America, at lowest 
rates. We have recently added to our library, Albiruni's 
"Chronology of Ancient Nations" (written A. D. 1000 ) ; 
Betham's " Royal Genealogies," published a century since, 
beginning with Adam if you wish; Sim's " Manual for the 
Genealogist," Bridger's "Index to Printed Pedigrees in 
England," (, all of them, ) and Col. Chester's " London 
Marriage Licenses," ( 1521 to 1869 ) 25,000 in all. ) 


" The criminal classes are so close to us that even a policeman can see them. 
poet can understand them." 

They are so far away from us that only- 

How best to help the slender store, 
How mend the dwellings of the poor. 
How gain in life, as life advances, 
Valor and charity more and more." — Tennyson. 

Of the new School of Sociol- 
ogy, established in this city. 
OUR SCHOOL the New York Tribune says: 
OF "Of the need of such work as 

SOCIOLOGY, this there can be no doubt. 
A vast amount of intellectual 
activity is being- devoted in 
this country to social questions, but there is a 
lack of clear thinking upon them. There seems 
to be no limit to the interest of the people in 
schemes devised for the advancement of society, 
to the sympathy bestowed on those who are 
suffering real or apparent wrong, or the readiness 
to enter into any organization promising amelior- 
ation of anything that anybody suggests ought to 
be ameliorated. But it unfortunately happens 
that a great deal of this potential force of 

improvement is rendered useless or worse by being 
directed to wrong methods of work. What is 
lacking more than anything else is clear sight and 
trained knowledge. People need not only to 
think, but to think right." 


"The science of duty" is a 
phrase that has been heard 
much of late, — which is, we 
are told, the most important 
of all the sciences. We hardly 
know in what sense duty can 
be regarded as a science at all. The science of 
ethics we have heard about, but this is not what 
is meant. If the science were taught, we do not 
believe the children would do their duty any 



better. They would learn a few fine-sounding 
names, and that would be all. But a man is no 
stronger in his arms by knowing that one muscle 
is called flexor longa and another flexor brevis. 
We do not contend that each church ought not to 
have full liberty to teach its own creed ; but why 
should such teaching be called the " science of 
duty" for have we not enough cant phrases? 

Now, if church and state are to be inseparably 
torn asunder in this country— a creed of politics 
which is inviolable — what is there to take the 
place of ethical teaching in schools, which thereby 
becomes nil? All the moral agencies of churches, 
Sunday-schools, the Y. M. C. A , and other insti- 
tutions are not sufficient to overcome the loss 
and ruin engendered by the deprivation of moral 
teaching in schools, — and for the simple reason 
that they do not reach all classes of society; 
whereas schools do, in this enlightened century, 
when few are illiterate. That is to say these godly 
institutions do not reach the entire masses, be- 
cause they are not constituted and managed 
properly to attain that end. 

This is plain talking, but we have been conscious 
for a decade or two that there was something 
lacking in their ingredients. This is borne home 
to us by the direct and forceful words of Rev. 
Frederick Stanley Root, of the Park Church in his 
recent resignation, offering therein a plea for the 
"Institutional Church." If morality and ethics 
can not be taught in schools, manifestly then it is 
the province of churches to establish schools that 
will teach undenominational morality, and meet 
the problem more than half way. -The Times, 
with its accustomed optimism in dealing with 
religious matters, points out the need of such an 
institution in this city, to supplement present 
facilities, and outlines a plan of work that has 
found favor in other cities. Such work as has 
been done by Dr. W. H. H. Murray, in Boston, Dr. 
Edward Eggleston, in New York, Dr. David Swing, 
in Chicago, and many others we can name, is not 
to be gainsaid, only it too frequently happens that 
when the pastor or "leader" is taken away by 
death or otherwise, the organization dwindles 
and dies for want of his personal magnetism. 
What is needed is some strong magnetic force, 
compelling, drawing, far out-reaching, fertile in 
resources and plans, and virile and mighty in their 
accomplishment. With such a leader "duty" 
seems a pleasure, not a " science." 

There is one such man in Hartford, a mighty 
Titan in energy and work, the President of the 
Theological seminaiy, of the School of Sociology, 
of the University Extension movement in this 
State, and of the School of Church Musicians 
and heart and soul in all of them. But Dr. 
Hartranft is accomplishing more good in his 
present position, and in the above lines, than 
he possibly could in any one church, or if pos- 
sible with any congeries of churches ; in fact his 
work will have an influence in this State, as well 
as out of it, for years, beyond a doubt— an in- 

fluence that will go on increasing in volume and 
effect in many after years. 

We do not care to enter into a discussion of the 
problem stated by Dr. Root, and emphasized still 
more in his statement at the annual meeting of 
his church society, except to say that he was right, 
irretrievably right, in his position ! He is right 
when he says, even in the church once occupied 
by Dr. Burton and Dr. Bushneil, "Sentiment, 
memories, aesthetics do not build a church. 
Work builds a church. As the Outlook 
remarked relative to my resignation, the 
inquiry of a church should not be what 
has been, but what will best do the work that is 
needed now. New methods, modern conceptions, 
are the conditions on which churches not well 
situated geographically live." 

Dr. Root is something of a seer. It may be 
another generation or two, possibly a century, 
before the region in which the present church is 
situated will be in the "slums "and subject to 
"university settlement;" when the backwater 
population from beyond Main street will over- 
flow the ridge and precipitate itself upon the 
entire business section of the city, — but that 
time will come. Besides business houses inevi- 
tably crowd out or smother church properties — 
except in large cities. It would seem strange for 
one of the Main street churches to wish to re- 
move to the " Lord's Hill " precincts, but it is not 
strange for a church located on narrow, unattrac- 
tive Asylum street, ( almost an alley) to want a 
change to a free atmosphere, and both Methodist 
and Park churches have long had such aspira- 
tions, which should be applauded as well as 

A Congregational Church on the Hill should 
properly be the outgrowth of the Asylum Hill 
Congregational Church, which is nearly "swarm- 
ing" now, the hive being over-crowded. Since 
both this and the Park Church have the same ob- 
ject in view, why not combine forces and finances 
to make such a church as is desired, and on an 
ample scale and progressive ideas ; then make the 
present Park edifice a free-seat church, not a 
mission church, but of a higher grade, where the 
poor can have the gospel free. There are too 
many churches with paid pews in town, already — 
but rich people prefer to pay for comfortable sit- 
tings with one hand and for charity and missions 
with the other. This inference is obvious. It is 
one reason why charity is so common, and why it 
has been so overdone in the past ; a few years 
ago, there were in this city thirty eelymosynary 
institutions, until it became necessary to found a 
charity clearing-house. Would it not be better if 
charity should begin at home in some churches, in 
other words that the gospel should be made free . 
so that the poor might have a chance at least, for 
gospel-teaching and hearing undying truths than 
gradually and inevitably to become estranged, 
demeaned, dissolute, maybe in some degree crim- 
inal ? 



The question of the reiative merits of the two 
methods of Christian activity, that carried on in 
churches and that carried on in secular audito- 
riums, is one that need not be debated here. 
There is room in every great city for both. There 
are special advantages and disadvantages in both 
methods, and it is gratifying to see that ueither 
is being neglected in Hartford — the Fourth Con- 
gregational and the First Methodist having the 
auditorium plan under consideration, besides the 
Park Congregational substitute for the plan. 





One of the remarkable fea- 
tures of the closing year of 
this century is the interest 
which men are taking in their 
fellow men. Social ills are 
abundant and the remedies 
, proposed are still more 
numerous. Ever increasing numbers of men and 
women are willing and anxious to help their fel- 
lows, but the question always is, how? 

It is with the desire of turning these philan- 
thropic energies in the right direction, showing 
men how they may best work for others that the 
Hartford School of Sociology was organized. 
This is its ultimate purpose but it aims to accom- 
plish this not by proposing remedies, but by a 
careful study of Society, as it is to-day, and the 
causes which have led up to the present condi- 
tion. The course of study covers three years and 
at the successful completion of this course, 
matriculated students are awarded the new de- 
gree of Bachelor of Sociology. The first term 
closed in December and it is possible to gain some 
idea of the working of this interesting experi- 
ment. The lecture courses as announced in the 
prospectus have been carried out without any ex- 
ception. The thoroughness and value of the work 
may be seen from the fine array of lecturers and 
their subjects. C. D. Hartranft, the President of 
the school, opened the term with a course upon 
the Encyclopaedia and Methodology of Sociology. 
Following this were a series of three courses, 
varying from six to twelve hours in length, upon 
the Philosophy of Sociology by Prof. Bascom, of 
Williams College, Prof. Wilson, of Brown 
University, and Prof. Lester F.Ward, of Wash- 
ington. Then the family was considered by Prof. 
Wilcox, of Cornell, who treated of its evolution. 
Prof. Austin Abbott, of the New York University 
Law School, who considered the family in its 
legal aspects. Prof. Beardslee, of the Hartford 
Theological Seminary, who lectured upon it from 
the theological and ethical standpoint ; and this 
series was completed by the course given by Dr. 
Dike, well known from his work as Secretary of 
the National Divorce Reform League, who lec- 
tured upon the family as a modern problem. 
Other courses in the first term are Heredity, by 
Henry Smith Williams, M. D., of New York City; 
Domestic Economv, by Mrs. Alice Peloubet Nor- 
ton ; Ethnology, by Prof. Otis T. Mason ; Effect of 
Environment on the Social Structure, by Prof. 
Wm. Libbey, of Princeton. The Community, by 
Prof. Chas. N. Andrews, of Byrn Mawr College ; 
and Institutions, by Curtis M. Geer, Fellow of 
Hartford Theological Seminary. 

In addition to these lecture courses, David I. 
Green. Ph. D., Superintendent of the Hartford 
Charity Organization Society, has conducted the 
following lines of work : (1) A Course in Gen- 
eral Economics, to supplement the college course 
as a foundation for the study of Sociology ; (2) A 
Sociological conference, to meet weekly for the 
presentation of papers and review of literature. 

(3) Sociological Field Work, for training in special 
investigations and visitation of institutions, and 

(4) a special conference of friendly visitors for 
practical philanthropic work. 

The number of students, as was expected, is 
small, but unusually well equipped even for col- 
lege graduates for this kind of work. Nearly all 
of them having either taught or pursued post- 
graduate work in addition to the college studies. 
There is every indication that the number enter- 
ing next year will be much larger. There are 
already several applications. A good beginning 
has been made in equipment. The students have 
free access to the fine Case Memorial Library, and 
at present the lectures are held in that building. 
Books suggested by the lecturers have been 
placed in the library, and at present the school 
receives between fifty and sixty periodicals bear- 
ing directly upon its work. 

On the whole, the outlook for the continued 
and increasing prosperity of the School is hope- 
ful. The need of such an institution is unques- 
tioned, and thus far the hopes of the organizers 
have been realized. 







University extension is a 
comparatively new-comer in 
Connecticut but it has already 
received a warm welcome. 
The work of our own Hartford 
center, with its excellent 
series of lecture courses, 
which have been given from 
season to season, during the 
last few years, is a matter of general knowledge. 
It has remained for the present season, however, 
to witness the general diffusion of the work in 
different quarters of the State. At the beginning 
of the season, two cities only, Hartford and New 
London, were actively engaged in the university 
extension movement ; this autumn, however, has 
witnessed the founding of new and flourishing 
centers at New Haven and Waterbury, while prep- 
arations are almost completed for starting the 
work at Meriden, In addition, the American 
Society is this year maintaining its own courses 
at Ansonia and Bridgeport, 

It will thus be seen that there is a steady 
expansion of the movement in this state, and as 
each city where the work is once started, becomes 
a center of diffusion in its turn, it is difficult to 
speculate on what the ultimate possibilities may 
be. Of the subjects chosen as topics for lecture 
courses, science seems at present to occupy, by 
long odds, the first place. An indication of the 
general taste of university extension audiences is 
shown by the fact that Prof. E. B. Rosa's course 
on Electricity opens the season's work this year in 
no less than three centers : New London, New 
Haven, and Waterbury. Literature, Sociology, 
and Economics are, however, also upon the list of 
chosen subjects, and it has been the evident design 
of each of the centers to arrange as diversified a 
programme as possible. It is only by such a policy 
that every class of the community, each in its 
turn, can be interested, and the movement thus 
be made to accomplish its ultimate purpose. 

Whatever difficulty may have originally existed 
of supplying a sufficient number of lecturers for 
our audiences, from the members of the college 
faculties, has long since vanished. There are now 
upon the staff of the State Society, forty-three 
lecturers, offering courses upon fifty-eight different 
subjects. Among this number are included repre- 
sentatives from every one of the higher institutions 



of learning within, and many from beyond, the 
borders of the State. The lecture courses offered 
cover a vast variety of subjects, including many 
departments of science, literature, history, phil- 
osophy, sociology, economics, and the fine arts. 

The department of agricultural science is one of 
particular strength, nearly every member of the 
staff of the two "Connecticut experiment stations, 
and the faculty of Storrs Agricultural College 
being represented on the lecture lists. Special 
attention is being devoted this year to the develop- 
ment of this particular branch of University 
extension work, and it is expected that before the 
end of another season, the farming communities 
will be fully abreast of the towns in the number 
and quality of their lecture courses. 

If every city and town in the State should in the 
end desire to avail itself of the opportunities 
offered by the University Extension Society, it is 
encouraging to know that a sufficient number of 
college professors will volunteer their services in 
the work to satisfy all their needs. It is this ready 
and willing co-operation of the men at our 
principal seats of learning, which affords the 
brightest outlook to the future of our Society and 
gives us the necessary confidence to wage an 
aggressive campaign for the expansion of the work. 






The past quarter has been 
the most active in the history 
of the Connecticut Humane 
Society. More than three 
hundred complaints have been 
made to the central office, 
and nearly all were well 
founded. Cases of suffering 
families, aged and infirm people neglected by 
relatives and town officials, and children 
neglected and suffering from ill treatment by 
cruel parents, have been reported to this Society"; 
and in many instances relief was furnished by 
calling the attention of proper officials, and of 
agents, and members of the Society, who rendered 
valuable assistance. Town authorities often use 
the Society as an agency for the relief of children, 
removing them from vicious surroundings and 
cruel treatment. The importance of the" work 
among children can not be over-estimated, yet it 
is done — at little expense. 

Within a few days, a child has been removed 
from a home of vice and immorality, to one of 
cleanliness and comfort. A boy, four years old, 
abandoned by both parents, was placed by us in a 
good home, and his father made to pay the 
expense. A girl of seven, subjected to immoral 
influences, has been rescued. Many other cases 
might be stated where relief has been given to chil- 
dren through the agency of this Society. Many 
cases of destitution, rather than cruelty, are 
referred or reported to charitable societies and 
town authorities. The work embraces both 
orders. That among animals exceeds any pre- 

vious quarter. Acknowledgment is due our 
three hundred and fifty agents who have given 
time and energy to the work. 

The fact that more cases have been reported, 
need not convey the idea that cruelty is on the 
increase, but rather the growth of humane senti- 
ment, which is apparent to casual observers ; for 
that growth is so marked that cases formerly 
unnoticed, will now excite attention if not indig- 
nation. The work is educational. Some offend- 
ers can only learn lessons of humanity by costly 
experience. The following is illustrative : A 
man, evidently born stubborn, owning a poor, 
deformed, suffering horse, repeatedly and persist- 
ently worked it, warnings and remonstrances 
being of no avail. He was finally arrested, yet 
caused the horse to work, while he was being 
tried for cruelty to the animal. He was found 
guilty, and bound over to a higher court, yet 
continued to work the suffering animal; when' an 
official of this Society destroyed it, to end its suf- 
fering. The higher "court has just found him 
guilty and imposed a fine of one hundred and 
fifty dollars and costs, amounting nearly to three 
hundred dollars. 

Prosecutions follow when other resources fail. 
Recently a man persisted in driving a poor, lame 
horse twenty-four miles daily. When advised 
and warned, he defied the official, who left him 
and caused his arrest. This had a decidedly mel- 
lowing and civilizing influence. He plead guilty, 
paid his fine and costs, killed the horse, and 
learned his lesson as effectually as in the preced- 
ing case, but at much less expense. During the 
past quarter, every prosecution brought by the 
Society has resulted in a conviction. 

The object in view is to create a humane public 
sentiment, not so much by punishment of offend- 
ers, as by dissemination of literature, which is a 
very important feature of the work. The publi- 
cations of the society, "Our Humble Associates," 
by Rev. Dr. Geo. Leon Walker; "Certain other 
Duties." by Gurdon Trumbull; "The Check- 
rein," by "Ellen Snow; " " Molly Cottontail," by 
Miss E. V. Hallett. have been widely circulated 
and read. "Vivisectors and Vivisection" has 
been sent to every known society in the world. 
The latest publication of this Society, "Anna 
Malann," by Annie Trumbull Slosson, is of inesti- 
mable value to the cause. The work is ably pre- 
sented in "the Sunday School Times," of 
December 1st, 1894, and has received many favor- 
able comments by the representive press. Orders 
have been sent for it from all parts of the 
country ; the first edition of one thousand copies 
is nearly exhausted. The story is electrotyped, 
and another thousand copies ordered. It is the 
aim of the Society to circulate through the pul- 
pit, press, and public school, such literature, with 
the hope that seed thus sown will bear fruit an 
hundred fold. 



There stately dame and merry maid, 

And Knight with visage stern, 
By limner's cunning art portrayed, 

Their eyes did on him turn." — Old Song. 

"In old days books were written by men of letters and read by the 
and read by nobody." 

public. Nowadays books are written by the public 

When my son assumed editorial charge of this 
magazine, he extended a polite invitation to his 
pater-familias to take charge of a department, — 
*'to keep it all in the family," I suppose, the sly 
rogue. He gave me my choice in the matter, and 
I replied : " Well, I am too old for any very active 
work, or tramping around much, but if you can 
give me something easy and lazy, a sort of sine- 
cure, with lots of perquisites, you can count upon 

" How would you like to do the book-reviews ?" 
"Nothing 1 should like better. You know I'm 
nothing if not critical. I like to tear a book — a 
bad book — to shreds, 'to tatters, to very rags,' 
and to praise a good book. In my old age and 
second childhood, I have grown very fond of 
romance and adventure — of knights and ladies in 
fiction, and like to have them all about me, in 
preference to the light-weight modern stuff, full 
of dandies in drawing-rooms. I am glad we are 
going back to the old days of chivalry, with Doyie 
and Weyman. and a host of their imitators; and 
you can send me all of that kind of books you 
wish. I like to lie at full length on the lounge, 
with the light at my head, and read aloud to 
Phillis about them, and when we find a good 
sensible hero we praise him, and when we don't 
we d-d-demolish him. Truth to tell, my son, 

between us, we generally manage to demolish 
most of your modern writers." 

•'Very well, so it shall be," said he, curtly, 
cutting off my chat and was gone on the instant. 

Phillis, my "gudewife," and I have been reading 
" The Manxman," by Hall Caine, recently, and so 
we will begin with that. Phillis sits and makes 
"butter-doylies" and drawn-work by the hour (a 
thing I forbade her doing thirty years ago, when 
we were first wed) while I plod along through the 
five-hundred-and-over pages of fine type — almost 
as ruinous to my old eyes as her fancy-work to 
hers. If she becomes excited over the story and 
draws out a thread too many, or drops a stitch in 
her knitting and forgets to take it up again, the 
work is spoiled, of course — at least in her eyes. 
In like manner, if the author of the story we are 
reading ''drops a stitch" it is spoiled, and thence- 
forth loses all interest in our eyes. And just here 
let me say that Mr. Caine has dropped several of 
them in this story, and has ruined a fine work, as 
I shall try to show. 

It is a remarkable story in many respects ; and 
in many others it is not. In the first place it is 
too interminably long ; he lays out his work on too 
large a canvas, and therefore fails. The greatest 
sermons, songs, poems, and prayers are the 
shortest ones. Long-drawn-out and fine-spun 



work never pays in the end. Life is too short 
while art is altogether too long. Now, my friend 
Hopkinson tells me he is some day going to write 
the Great American Novel, and will make it 1,000 
pages long, but I tell him he will never write the 
Great American Novel. That is the great trouble 
with the novels now-a-days, — their length and 
verbosity: as for instance' Cable's "Dr. Sevier," 
Col. Kirkland's "Zury," Henry James' never end- 
ing yarns, Hardy's "Tess," Blackmore's "Lorna 
Doone," and Mrs. Ward's novels. Of course "it's 
English " but a bad precedent ; they write nothing 
but three-story novels. Why should not a novel 
end somewhere short of a life-time, so that the 
attempt to read it will be worth the making? 

How dreary and tiresome it is to wade through 
a hundred pages in which a heroine is dying of a 
lingering consumption ( when a quick fever 
would have answered quite as well) : or to read 
half of "Lorna Doone" before John Ridd gets 
into the den of the Doones to rescue his sweet- 
heart ; or to tramp with Cable's hero all summer 
over hot, blistering New Orleans streets while he 
searches for work which never comes, meanwhile 
tormented by inane platitudes in Creole patois ; 
or to be worried to death by old miser Zury's per- 
sistent pursuit and courtship of the little New 
England "schoolmarm" heroine, — both before 
and after his wife dies until he gets her, some- 
where after page 600 or 700 ! 

Well, the author of "The Manxman" means 
well at any rate, if he does string out the tale 
almost beyond endurance. It is rumored that he 
goes into his writing-room, and writes almost in- 
cessantly for months, until a novel is born, and 
comes out almost as haggard as Haggard himself, 
at the end, looking wild, unkempt, distraught. 
Now, is it possible for a man to live in such a hot- 
house state, writing at white-heat all the while, 
and yet produce anything worthy of name and 
fame? And yet, this is the little man who 
aspires to write as his chef-d'oeuvre a Life of the 
Christ ! What a forced, ghostly, fearful thing it 
will be ! 

"The Manxman" begins well, with the death of 
"old Iron Christian," the disinheritance of his 
elder son, Tom, whose mesalliance with a shrew- 
ish, pitifully ignorant, and thoroughly vulgar 
wife, brings forth the alleged hero, Philip. I 
should not call Philip a hero — for it is impossible 
to love him, even after his stilted and theatrical 
expiation of his crime in the last pages — re- 
nouncing all his honors as Deemster and Gover- 
nor, to take up with Kate, the woman he has 
wronged. He is not half so lovable as "Steer- 
forth," in " David Copperfield," that prince of 
betrayers. Philip is as lifeless an automaton as a 
human can be in such a plight. He is not a vil- 
lain from design or motive or desire, but by sheer 
accident and the temptation of an Eve; this em- 
bitters his whole life. He is a whited sepulchre 
through his career to power and influence, and 
hides his shame like the Rev. Arthur Dimmesdale 
because of pride and ambition, — evidently the 
character he was modeled upon. 

He succeeds beyond his most sanguine anticipa- 
tions in everything he undertakes, but it is by 
walking over the hearts of others, destroying and 
blighting nobler lives than his own; and the 
effort of the author to reinstate him in the 
reader's liking, in the last pages, is mawkish sen- 
timent. Great-hearted "Pete" (what if he does 
spell his name 'peat'? ) goes away, the scape-goat 
of all the sin, folly and wickedness of the others ; 
but he is the true hero of the story, and as noble 
a hero as can be. Truly this is what Hardy would 

call one of "Life's Little Ironies." Pete so far 
over-shadows Philip and Kate, that there is no 

Kate is at the start, a smart, buxom, light- 
hearted average girl and promises well, but 
Caine does not understand women at all, for he 
makes her change to a hysterical wife and 
mother, and later to a too-willing mistress of 
Philip— changes too abrupt for belief. She be- 
comes colorless and insipid. We are not sorry 
that she practically disappears as a human sort of 
person before the book is half done ; she becomes 
after that a tiresome automaton. We are of 
course at first as much interested in her as in any 
of the hoydenish heroines so common in the past 
decade — Rhoda Broughton's underbred "trol- 
lops," Black's "Madcaps," Grant Allen's 
"Mainiies," or even Henry James's "Daisy Mil- 
lers" — but to have her throw herself, virtue and 
all, at the hero's head, and then be told that this 
is the last resource a girl has to win the man she 
loves, and the fruitful cause of most betrayals — 
is exasperating to say the least. It is not human 
nature, and certainly not woman-nature. 

" And more than that, Felix," chimes in Phillis 
at this point, "it isn't human nature or woman 
nature for a woman to leave her husband and 
child, to go with a lover without the least com- 
punction of conscience. That may do in fiction, 
but women reason nowadays in real life, and be- 
sides a mother is a mother the world over." Yes, 
I add, you are right, but the weakest part is 
that Philip thinks it necessary to take Kate away 
from her husband, simply because he has just 
found out from her that their child is really his 
own. I don't know what the laws or customs are 
in the little Isle of Man, but it is not human 
nature for a man to assume such a responsibility 
oh such short notice, even if duty or sentiment 
impel him. How he can help matters by taking 
her away I cannot see. 

"And, Felix, to think that the hussy should 
leave that baby as she did ! She must have been 
insane to think that leaving Philip's child with 
Pete would be expiation for her sin. Why should 
she not take it along with her, like any other 
woman would, and make Philip's expiation more 
complete?" That is where Hall Caine dropped 
another stitch that spoiled the whole fabric. Then 
again, Pete was altogether too wooden-headed 
and unsuspecting, and when' he found them out, 
altogether too magnanimous towards them. Why, 
he even killed his dog, when he left the island and 
them to their happiness, — the only creature that 
had really been true to him in all his troubles. It 
is an uncanny tale, take it as a whole, but it is far 
above the average in power and description, as 
well as human interest until that breaks down 
completely. It is a pity to have to criticise so 
good a book, so well told a story, but it is impos- 
sible to overlook its weakness and faults. Now, 
I know perfectly well, Phillis, that this criticism 
will cause dozens of people to read the book who 
would not otherwise call for it. Well, let them, 
for I can honestly commend it as a novel above 
the average and one of great promise but which 
does not hold out to the end. There is one thing 
1 want to commend it for — its folk-speech, 
knowledge of customs and of the traditions of 
the "right little, tight little island" of Man. The 
mingled simplicity and astuteness of the peasants, 
their quasi-Hibernian richness and "blarneyism" 
is delicious and admirable always. 

The trouble with Mr. Caine is that he is greatly 
impressed with the solemnity of a novelist's 
career — and more impressed by his own over- 
weening greatness. He is out now with a lecture 



on " Moral responsibility in the Novel and the 
Drama," in which he has said : "It was a fright- 
ening thought that the morality of a man's book 
was exactly his own morality." If this be true, 
how much of The Manxman is autobiographical ? 
"There was only one thing the public demanded, 
and that was human nature. Undoubtedly there 
were subjects which it forbade ; it forbade all 
unwholesome and unnatural passions." Then 
why not forbid the Manxman ? Well, it is called 
an immoral book by some, who declare it has out- 
Tessed "Tess." We do not. however, think it 
was intended to be immoral. Mr. Caine further 
said he had "dreamed of a greater novel than we 
had ever yet seen, that should be compounded of 
the penny newspaper and the Sermon on the 
Mount— the plainest realism and the highest 
idealism." When he makes the two poles of 
thought meet in expression, in such a novel, he 
will have written a greater novel than his pro- 
posed Li»fe of Christ. That will only be a novel 
anyway — if he writes it. 

What book shall we take up next, Phillis? 
"Oh, anything but this erotic, neurotic stuff. 
Neurotic, indeed ; they should call it nerve- 
destroying ! Why can not the writers and dra- 
matists be decent, Felix?" Well, I suppose we 
must put up with "adultery-dramas," or " Magde- 
len plays." Once upon a time they were decent, 
in the days of "The New Magdalen" which 
taught a moral, and was far above "Camille" in 
point and morality. But now we have "Second 
Mrs. Tanquery," and still later "John a' Dreams" 
and "Rebellious Susan" which are abominable to 
say the least. I suppose we will continue to have 
these phases of wrecked and wretched woman- 
hood until we have had a surfeit, and audiences 
and readers will turn from them, for the worm 
will turn some time. Or, perhaps, the wrecked 
and wretched women will turn themselves and 
form a crusade against polite society in order to 
purify and redeem it ! It would not be a bad 
idea, either, Phillis. This kind of reading seems 
to have a terrible fascination for some people, — 
like children playing with fire. It might be for- 
given if there was any effort to state or solve a 
problem. But there is none. It is clear 
debauchery of the mind, nothing else. 

"But, Trilby— what of little Trilby and her 
story? Is that immoral, do you think, Felix?" 
pleads Phillis. Am I not to make an exception of 
that wonderful tale, even if libraries and school- 
boards have expunged and blacklisted it? For 
answer, I read from the critique of my friend, the 
editor of The Outlook, who sums it all up in a 
paragraph, as I have no time now to treat of 
Trilby at length and probably ad nauseam : 
"What of Trilby and her three comrades ! The 
latter who constitute a sort of tri-personal 
hero of the story, leading an artist life in the 
Latin Quarter of Paris, are true, genuine, 
chivalrous young men. Little Billee might 
have had Trilby as his mistress, but it does not 
occur to him even as a thought. That he can 
not have her as his wife kills him. No book in 
England sounds a nobler note in honor of mas- 
culine chastity. Trilby, an artist's model, child 
of an ignorant mother, and strangely ignorant 
of moral laws, yet retains her innocence. To 
speak more accurately, she possesses all the vir- 
tues save the one ; she is simple, sincere, 
truthful, loving, heroically self-sacrificing; but 
she has lost her chastity. She has not sold 
herself for money or for place. She has given 
herself away — for love! No! rather for good 
nature : and knows not what she has given. 

"What the Scarlet letter treats as a sacrilege in 
the very spirit of Paul himself, this story treats 
as a lache, a fault easily condoned, almost over- 

looked. In life, innocence is not retained after 
virtue is lost. A character drawing which is 
morally untrue is never morally wholesome. . 
. . To the question, Is Trilby a moral novel? 
we reply in the negative. Its moral standard is 
a purely conventional one — that of the social 
code of honor. The eternal sanctions of 
righteousness, which are never ignored in the 
greatest works of the greatest artists, are 
wholly lacking. Religion is never referred to 
except in its most conventional forms, and then 
only to be satirized, perhaps we should say 
travestied. It is true the story exalts all the 
social virtues except one. But for chastity in 
woman it inspires rather condonation which 
comes of comparative indifference than the for- 
giveness which comes of a pure and pitying 

• love." 

And so, Phillis, I rather think we shall have to 

add Trilby to the category of Tess. 

Do I think that there will be any improvement 
or will the decadence continue? I cannot tell, 
Phillis. Literature is in a bad way all over the 
world. The nations on whom civilization 
depends for progress most, seem most in the 
slough now. The peoples that have the least lit- 
erary history give the most promise. Norway 
puts forward a strange being named Ibsen, who 
is neither fish nor fowl ; Belgium has a so-called 
original thinker in Maurice Maeterlinck, while 
Russia still boasts of Tolstoi — who is only a cob- 
bler now, take him at his best. He has lately 
taken to "boot-makery " as he is pleased to call 
it, and one of his fellow shoe-makers has said of 
him, "Eh, eh, if he had to make his living by 
making boots he would fare badly, but since he 
only makes for himself, it doesn't matter so 
much." This witty saying is as true of his books 
as his boots. He only makes them for himself : 
he cobbles. He has written nothing binding him 
to fame except "Anne Karenina" and his 
"Kreutzer Sonata " is simply abominable. 

Tolstoi is to Turgenef, (or Turgueneff?) the 
greatest Russian writer, as crash or buckram to 
fine linen or fine silk. In Germany we find no 
successor to Goethe or Schiller, in Italy no Dante, 
in Spain no Cervantes of to-day. The French 
have the exquisite Coppee, the robust Bourget, 
the eccentric Zola, but no Moliere nor even a 
Hugo in all the land. In England there is a host 
of writers, none of whom are good enough to 
wear the mantle of Thackeray or Dickens or Scott. 
Scott, indeed, is now easily the greatest writer of 
the century in England or any of the British 
domains. He ranks next to Shakespere as a 
creator of individual character of the miscella- 
neous human sort — such as we call "character 
studies," nowadays. There are a host of English 
writers of third or fourth class, but they are all 
parrots — even Mrs. Ward, the best of them is a 
frank imitator of George Eliot. Hardy is grow- 
ing, but is a rank pessimist; Doyle is the most 
promising of the novelists. Du Maurier is a mere 
passing fashion-plate : Kipling is only for this 
generation, while Stevenson will last several times 
as long, although his last novel was a failure ; he. 
however, reached the dignity of "collected works," 
and died soon after enough to save himself a niche. 
and to prevent his works being scattered apart 
again. But there is no Dickens, no Carlyle, no 
Thackeray ; although some, like Lang, give 
abundant promise. It is a pity he writes only for 
money, not for enduring fame. 

"You seem to be unusually severe, to-night, 
Felix. What about our American writers?" I 
prefer not to touch upon them now, Phillis, as it 
is a long story. We have a decided lull, however, 
on this side "the water also ; and now that Dr. 
Holmes has gone, it is too early to suggest any 



one to follow in the footsteps of the beginning-of- 
the-century group that has gone. It seems to 
me that we are paying altogether too little 
attention to one of the greatest of a younger 
group of writers destined to take the places of the 
elder group ; and that one, a man born here in 
Hartford — Edmund Clarence Stedman — by far 
the most finished, scholarly, and felicitous of the 
now aging poets of his generation. He is one of 
the best critics the country affords, and a too in- 
frequent poet ; but his poetry is as good as his 
criticism, every whit. Hartford has every reason 
to honor him, and it will in time to come. 

But, speaking of the decadents and impression- 
ists, as we were but a moment ago, Phillis, I can- 
not help reading you the latest gibe against that 
school in France which plumes itself on its pro- 
fundity. "Bead it, and see if you understand," 
said one of the school, to a friend, pointing to one 
of his complicated sentences. The friend read it 
several times over and admitted that there were 
some glimmerings of sense in it. "Oh, I knew 
there was something wrong with it," answered 
the impressionist, sadly. Here, again is another 
skit, not a bad bit of humor, from the London 
" Satirist," on "The Pastellette." 

The pastelle is loo strong, said he, 
Lo ! I will make it fainter yet ! 
And he wrought with tepid ecstacy 
A pastellette. 

A touch — a word — a tone half caught — 
He softly felt and handled them ; 
Flavor of feeling — scent of thought — 
Shimmer of gem, — 

That we may read and feel as he 
What vague, pale pleasure we can get, 
From this mild, witless mystery, — 
The pastellette. 

Contrast with this, if you please, my Phillis, 
this pretty "sonnet on the sonnet," by Eugene 
Lee-Hamilton : 

. Fourteen small broidered berries on the hem 

Of Circe's mantle, each of magic gold ; 

Fourteen of lone Calypso's tears that roll'd 
Into the sea, for pearls to come to them ; 

Fourteen clear signs of omen in the gem 

With which Medea human fate foretold ; 
Fourteen small drops, which Faustus, growing old, 
Craved of the Fiend, to water Life's dry stem. 

It is the pure white diamond Dante brought 

To Beatrice ; the sapphire Laura wore 
When Petrarch cut it sparkling out of thought ; 

The ruby Shakespeare hewed from his heart's core : 

The dark deep emerald that Rosetti wrought 
For his own soul, to wear forevermore. 

How much better is this than the somewhat 
soggy sonnets which a magazine editor feels 
moved to offer to a patient public ; and how in- 
finitely above the Pastellette. Well, Phillis. as 
we have not "the unchallenged leisure of the 
lilies of the field," to pursue these themes, we 
had best say good night to our friends. 




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of it ? a coat, two pairs of pants and cap, all 
of the same maienal and pattern and strictly 
all wool foi $5.00. 

We guarantee this outfit to be of better 
material and make than any Suit sold else- 
where, without the extra Pants and Cap, lor 
$5.00, or we don't want your money. 

The above will be sent you by Express, C. 
O. D., with the privilege of examining before 
paying, and if same does not come up to your 
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. THE 

Connecticut Quarterly. 

An Illustrated Magazine. 

Devoted to the Literature, History, and Picturesque 
Features of Connecticut. 



(§) 66 State Street, Courant Building, ^) 

(g) Hartford, Conn. ^j 

@ Geo. C. AtwelLj General Manager. W. Farraxd Felch, Editor. 

€ ' I 


Vol. i April, May, June, 1895. No. 2. 

Frontispiece. View of Campbell's Falls. 

Near Norfolk, Conn. 

Norfolk, and That Neighborhood, . 

Illustrated from photographs by Mrs. Marie H. Kendal 

Historic Homes, n. Homes of Wealth. Illustrated. 

Scenes In and Around Granby. 

Illustrated from photographs by the author, and drawin 
by Geo. F. Stanton. 
Simsbury. Illustrated. 
The Burning of Simsbury. Ballad. 
Fame. Poem. ..... 

A Revolutionary Boycott. 

A Harp and a Soul. Poem. . 

Old Colonial Characters, n. 

The Three Dates. 

Poems. " I Read of Algol," and Sonnet. 

A Typical Easter. Poem. 

Illustrated by original drawing by Gustave A. Hoffmann 
Suff ield. A Sketch. Illustrated. 
A Retrospect. Poem. 

The Hartford Park System, n. Illustrated. . 
Atalanta. Poem. ...... 

The Towers of Talcott Mountain. Illustrated. 
Trio and Tripod. 11. To Salmon Brook. Illustrated. 
Sonnet. ....... 

Scrope; or the Lost Library: Serial. . 

Adele Greene. 

W. Far rand Felch. 
Howard W. Benjamin. 

Prof. John B. McLean. 
Albert Lewis Thayer. 
Louis E. Thayer. 
Ellen D. Lar?ied. 
Henry Mason Chadwick. 
Felix Oldmixon. 
Franklin E. Denton. 
Franklin E. Denton. 
Will Farrand Felch. 

Prof. Martin H. Smith. 
Florence C. Davis. 
Sherman W. Adams. 
Fanny Driscoll. 
S. C. Wadsworth. 
George H. Carri?igton. 
Stockton Bates. 
Frederic Beecher Perkins. 






It Smacks of the Soil.' 

The Editor. 
The Charm of the Commonplace. — A Word 

" Solon." 
School of Sociology. — University Extension. — Connecticut 

The Round Table. 

The American Type, 
of Welcome. 

Sociology and Civics. . 

Charity Organization and Medicine. 
Humane Society. 

Musical Melange. 

The Spinet. (Contributed.) Ellen Brainerd Peck. — Individuality in Music 

New York Notations, (Correspondence;!, Edwin Warren DeLeon. ' 
Treasure Trove. ....... "Algernon." 

The Last of the Blue Laws. — Connecticut Society, Sons of the American Revolution. — Con 

necticut Society, Daughters of the American Revolution. — Connecticut Historical Society.— 

New Haven Colony Historical Society. — Society of Colonial Wars. 
Notes and Queries. Book Notices. 


-Forrest Cheney, 







Copyright 1895 by The Connecticut Quarterly Co. (All rights reserved^ 
Entered at the Post Office at Hartford, Conn., as mail matter of the second class. 




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Remember this metal is the same all through. Solid metal, No plating. With proper care they retain their color and wear 
the same as 18 carat gold. No one will buy silver goods when they can get Solid Columbian Gold goods. 

Send 50 cents for samples and satisfy yourselves as to the quality. Your money will be refunded if not satisfactory. 


Tea Spoons, per set of 6, $2.00 Dessert Forks, per set of 6, .... $3.00 

Dessert Spoons, per set of 6, 3.00 Medium Knives, per set of 6, 3.00 

Table Spoons, per set of 6, 3.50 Dessert Knives, per set of 6, . . . . 2.50 

Medium Forks, per set of 6, 3.50 Sugar Shells, each, 1.00 

Butter Knives, each, $1.00 

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The Connecticut Quarterly. 

Leave not your native land behind."- — -Thoreau. 


Vol. 1. 

April, May and June, 1895. 

No. 2. 




While the Berkshire Hills have long been a favorite resort for city folk, the 
Litchfield Hills, their continuation in Connecticut, have had until recent years 
comparatively little reputation. Litchfield, however, on its hill-top, long 
looked up to as one of the most beautiful towns in New England, has in its 
turn looked down on the world at large from its vantage ground of antiquity 
and culture. Excepting this town, the lovely rolling hills of Litchfield county 
have been greeted by no large number of visitors. But now, year by year, 
these hills are becoming more widely known, and increasing numbers of guests 
are enjoying the lovely scenery and invigorating air. 

Lakeville has of late been on the lips of those interested in education, as 
the site of the splendidly endowed Hotchkiss School, preparatory to Yale and 
other universities. Also among these hills lies Washington, loved and admired 
as the site of the famed old " Gunnery" school, as well as for its picturesque 
aspect. Many other spots have been the pleasant summer haunts of the few. 



In recent years, visitors in increasing numbers have been attracted to 
Norfolk, whose altitude, about fourteen hundred feet above tide, ensures pure 
air and tempers the heat with mountain breezes. It is but a few miles from the 
Massachusetts line. The engine which puffs arduously up to Norfolk, reaches 
there the highest railway station in Connecticut. This little town upon its hills, 

looking off on the blue Berkshires, and made 

jlad by many streams, had doubt- 




less still been dreaming out its sylvan life, were it not so fortunate as to be the 
residence of two closely connected families long noted for culture and ibenefi- 

A beautiful library, planned by George Keller of Hartford, has been built, 
perfect in every appointment, possessing even a conversation-room — for doubt- 
less the donor of the 
building saw, as did 
the architect, the im- 
portance of a retreat 
for at least some of 
our sisters, where sil- 
vern speech might take 
the place of golden 
silence. Books may be 
drawn free of charge 
by villagers and guests. 
Nothing could look 
more charmingly cozy 
of a cool September or 
October day than the 
glow and flame in the open fire-place of the artistic hall ; and indeed the entire 
furnishing of the building is a delight to the aesthetic sense. This may be said 
also of the fine gymnasium, from designs by H. R. Marshall, built by another 
member of the same family connection. There are tennis-courts on the 






1 1 1 

grounds and a bowling-alley, as well as the gymnasium proper, equipped 

perfectly for every possible requirement. 


stands at the end of the village-green. 

Here again, no charge is made for 
the many advantages. 
In the parlor of the 
building there is music, 
morning and evening, 
during the summer, and 
dancing in the gymna- 
sium hall several even- 
ings a week, to which 
all are welcomed. In 
the winter, a teacher of 
athletics is provided to 
make strong the Nor- 
folk youth. 

Still another gift is 
a village fountain, which 
This fountain, an exquisite piece of 


workmanship in granite and bronze, was designed by Stanford White, the 
bronze being by St. 
Gaudens. Facing the 
same green is the 
beautiful memorial 
chapel of the Congre- 
gational church, built 
by Mrs. Urania 
Humphrey, in mem- 
ory of her father and 
mother. This build- 
ing, designed by Cady, 
is of granite, and con- 
sists of a spacious 
lecture-room and an 
adjoining parlor, which 
may be thrown together 


The west end of the chapel is beautified by a Tiffany 



Close by stands the old church, a wooden structure of the New England 
meeting-house type, with a Wren steeple. The first house of worship was taken 
down and this one erected in 1813. Since then, the interior has been renovated 
and a fine large organ presented to the church. From the belfry, a chime of bells 
tells the quarter-hours, ringing out its full tune before the stroke of each hour. 

The latest gift 
is a field for 
athletic sports, 
for the young 
men of Nor- 

There are 
lakes within a 
few miles of 
Norfolk. The 
in springs and 
is noted for the 
purity of its 
water ; but to 
insure a boun- 
tiful supply, an 

aqueduct, bringing water from Lake Wangum, has recently been opened. 
"The Hillhurst," a home-like hotel, commands a fine prospect. At this 
house, President Porter of Yale was wont to pass the last summers of his life. 
Many fine building sites are being occupied, yet the rural simplicity of the 
place has not been spoiled by showy ornamentation. 

Of the old residents of the village, the Battell and Eldridge families are 
notable, and to them Norfolk owes its adornments. The Rev. Dr. Joseph 
Eldridge was for forty-two years the beloved and honored pastor of [the 
Norfolk church. Nor- 
folk was indeed favor- 
ed in keeping all its 
own a man of such 
marked ability and 
wide repute. The 
doors of his home 
were opened with large 
sympathy, and his 
hearth was sought by 
many, even from afar, 
who always found there 
rest and intellectual 
stimulus. Among his 
European visitors was THE piazza- gymnasium. 

Pere Hyacinthe, who came to this quiet nook, far away from the whirlwind of 
popular feeling which his sudden departure from the Church of the Madeleine 
had raised. 

The first settled pastor of Norfolk was the Rev. Ammi Ruhamah Robbins, 
grand-father of Mrs. Eldridge. Mr. Robbins came directly from the theologi- 
cal seminary to Norfolk, where his pastorate of fifty-two years ended only with 
his death. He came to a very different Norfolk from that of to-day, for the 



spot was so wild — the old forests standing closely about the church — that on 
entering the village from the south, the building could not be seen when only a 
short distance away. Mr. Robbins during his long pastorate in Norfolk, is said 


to have prepared more students for college than any other man of his time in 
the state. In memory of his educational work, two of his descendants — the 
Hon. Robbins Battell, whose recent death is so widely lamented, and his sister, 



r r 


m m m 


the late Miss Anna Battell — established an academy, known as The Robbins 
School, a picturesque building on a wide lawn, through which a brook makes 
its way, singing on through school-hours and through play, is such a picture, 
with the hills to frame it, as one will recall with pleasure from afar. Here 



beauty and knowledge have locked hands. 


A reunion of the school, on "the 
completion of its tenth 
anniversary, was re- 
cently held, when the 
old birds and the fledg- 
lings met together to 
bless the day when this 
" Robbins " nest was 
hung high up among 
these hills. 

One of the most 
picturesque roads in 
Norfolk is the "Wil- 
lows." On one side 
a hill rises abruptly, 
while on the other the 
venerable trees, from which the road is named, cast a dense shade, their 
huge trunks and 
twisted limbs bending 
devotedly over the 
gorge where flows 
their patron stream, 
the Blackberry river. 
Just above, the stream 
has had a fall, and 
with an angry turbu- 
lence is hurrying on, 
to serve several mills. ■ 
Attracted to this lovely 
spot by the water ad- 
vantages, these work- 
shops stand in the 


midst of all this greenery, reminding us that the iron hand of civilization 

grasps every advantage and gives no quar- 
ter to primitive nature. The Buttermilk 
Falls, a series of connected tumbles, is an 
outflow from the Mill Pond, near by, into 
the Blackberry River. Here are fascinat- 
ing bits for the artist. To return to the 
" Willows," where trees, stream, hill, and 
road, keep such close company — I well 
remember a fair September Sunday, with 
the Sabbath stillness over all save the rest- 
less stream, and the voices of those who 
like ourselves were on their way to the 
West Norfolk Sunday-school service, a 
mile and a half from Norfolk village. 
These services were started and are con- 
ducted during the summer, on Sunday 
afternoons, by one of the city visitors. 
On the road thither still stands the old and 
disused toll-gate, a curious and interesting 
^eTTo^ eldridge. relic of bygone days. 



The westering sun is sinking fast when we turn our faces homeward, after 
the service is over, and soon has dropped behind a hill, and we are in shadow. 
But across the road, on the opposite height, glints of sunlight linger as if loth 
to depart, and flickering higher and still higher, call forth here and there 


an answering cdow of eariv autumnal color. Trulv a farewell to summer are 
these lengthening shadows and waning September lights ! 

Another charming walk is the " Lover's Lane." What place would be 
complete without 
one? — and the road 
so called in Norfolk is 
well named, if a 
winding woodland 
way, with ferns on 
either side nod ap- 
proval, and trees to 
whisper gently to one 
another, and only an 
occasional squirreHor 
third company, is 
what a lover's lane 
should be. We are 
reminded here of 
Gilder's woodland 
thought — 


" I care not if the skies are white, 

Nor if the fields are gold; 
I care not whether 'tis black or bright. 

Or winds blow soft or cold ; 
But O the dark, dark wood, 
For thee, and me, and love." 


,Sv ill 


Here too, chestnuts are ripening, and 
late October brings no dreamers, but 
bright-eyed school-children who vie 
with the squirrels in laying in their 

The many drives among these 
hills are of great beauty and variety. 
Within easy driving distance are Lake 
Wangum, Doolittle Lake, and Camp- 
bell's Falls. Lake Wangum, about 
four miles from Norfolk village, is a 
beautiful sheet of water, high on 
Canaan mountain. Here an attractive 
little lodge has been built, open during 
the season, for guests who may pro- 
cure meals there while passing the 
day in boating and fishing, and where 
a small party may be accommodated 


over night. A drive 
of about six miles from 
Norfolk, in the opposite 
direction, brings us to 
Doolittle Lake. This 
lake is much larger 
than Lake Wangum, 
and nestled among the 
hills, its indented shores 
are thickly wooded. At 
first glance one feels 
that here the wilderness 
obtains, but on closer 
observation one or two 



camps and a boat-house dispel 
the illusion. The fishing is 
said to be excellent, and a 
variety of the finny tribe make 
their uncertain home here. A 
surprisingly beautiful approach 
to this lake lies through an 
ancient pine forest. Surmising 
that this wood-way from the 
main road around the lake 
would bring us to its brink, we 
turned our horse's head thither, 
into a gloom of almost theatri- 
cal effect. The creaking of the 
horse's trappings emphasized 
the impressive stillness ; voices, 
sounding hollow, seemed al- 
most to desecrate the perfect 
quiet, and flecks of sunlight 
dappled the denser shade, over 
the soft deep carpeting, until 
silver glimmerings through the 
trees told that the lake was near 
— surely a startlingly charm- 
ing contrast from dark to light. 
The Campbell's Falls, 
about nine miles from Norfolk, 
are near the Massachusetts 
line. A variety of scenery is 
to be had on this trip by 
takine the road over Ball 


Mountain, and 






way of Canaan valley. Leaving the wagon on the roadside, a steep and 
wooded path winds down into a ravine, not rugged, but lined with verdure and 
crested with trees. From the height, at one end of the ravine, the falls, in 


wonderful curves of beauty, bound from rock to rock, sparkling in emerald 
lights over mossy rocks, in the more quite nooks that flank its way, until at 
length they flow into a bubbling brook soon lost to sight among the trees. 
Nature loves this spot, and has made it glad with her best gifts of fern and 



should not leave Norfolk without visiting the look-out on Haystack 
, which stands close guard over the village and invites all to an 




extended and lovely view. Far to the north, against the horizon, is Greylock, 
the mountain which presides with such impressiveness over Williamstown, while 

westward is seen the 
Taconic range. At 
our feet is Norfolk, 
rising and falling on 
its hills like a billowy 
sea, the midmost wave 
crested by the old 
church, the spire visi- 
ble from afar. Op- 
posite, and nearer the 
village is Crissy Hill, 
which affords a some- 
what more detailed 
outlook on the village. 
The soil is sandy, and 
malaria loves not Nor- 
folk. So rocky is the region that many years ago when Norfolk lands were 
first put up at auction in Hartford, scarcely a bid was to be had for the 
then unhappy spot. To-day 
the bidders crowd one an- 

One of the attractions of 
Norfolk is that, like Lenox 
and Stockbridge, it keeps its 
guests late into the autumn, -' 

and those who have seen these 
New England woodlands in 
their gorgeous autumnal 
tints, when a Persian mantle 
of color has been flung over 
hill and dale, will not wonder 
at the charm which holds the 
city folk long in this garden of nature. But to lovers of the hills each season 





brings its peculiar charm and the restful beauty of this region in midsummer 



verdure led to the writing of the following lines on " Norfolk Hills" :* 


, ,-. . ••- :£S 

/%5 'Ao/?rQ£K OfffTC 

Green are the hills that are rolling to meet me, 
Blue in the distance their stern brethren stand; 

Flecked o'er with shadow and sunlight, they greet 
me — 
Peaceful, majestic, a wonderful band. 

Far, far away from the soot of the city, 
Into the open, where skies arch serene; 

Valley's rejoice at the brooks' tinkling ditty 
Of forested hill-tops all fluffy with green. 

Away, far away from the heart's weary beating, 
Far, far away from ambition's fierce throb, 

From cares that corrode, and pleasures too fleeting, 
Away from the jostling and self-seeking mob. 

Here be my rest and my home for a season, 

These be my friends, and kind nature my cheer; 

Peace fill the heart and sweet dreams still the 
reason — 
Dreams that are child-like, and joy without fear. 


Originally published in the Hartford Times. 




Decidedly, one of the most attractive cities in New England, as far as 
natural beauty is concerned, is Hartford, Connecticut; and by many it is 
considered to be the most beautiful in the whole country. It will compare 
favorably with Newport, barring the ocean advantages, in points of interest and 
in picturesque location ; with Detroit in its general topography ; with Cam- 


bridge in historic interest, — its parent-town from whence its ecclesiastical and 
civil polity was derived ; w T ith New Haven, or Springfield, or Worcester, or any 
other New England village, in its masses of verdure and foliage. In a social 
sense it can be compared, in a lesser degree of course, with Boston for its 
culture, refinement, and advanced ideas ; and with New York for its commer- 
cial spirit, business energy and perspicacity. 



But, despite all these comparisons, it has its own peculiar atmosphere and 
environment ; its own slow but thorough-going public spirit ; its own devious 
political predilections and antagonistic elements, a parti-colored mixture of 
Celtic and Puritanical constitution which alternates strangely in succeeding 
campaigns. Like the cast of a stone in a quiet pool, causing ever-widening 
ripples that spread to its circumference, so the old-time " town meeting, " to 
which recourse is still had, may start a series of circles which does not stop 
with the town's confines but gradually spreads over and influences the whole 

The individual excellence of its leading citizens in all the main lines of 
endeavor is a source of common wonder and remark ; this is because they 
are not merely citizens of the municipality but of the state. Some of the 


leading literary lights of the country ; some of the richest business men, who 
have risen from the ranks to become millionaires, (or "plutocrats" in the sense 
of the socialist and political demagogue) ; some of the shrewdest commercial 
and insurance men, and sharpest politicians hail from this small bailiwick. It 
has been called the richest city of its size in the country, per capita, in late 
years, and until quite recently had a per capita of $1,000 for each person in 
the city ; not many years ago this was the per capita of every man in the State. 
This is all the more remarkable when the per capita of wealth of the entire 
United States does not exceed $50. The superabundance of wealth is largely 
due to the fact that Hartford is one of the chief insurance centers of the 
country, second only to New York city; and this branch of business always 



brings in more money than it sends out for immediate use or exchange. There 
are a dozen or more insurance companies, fire, life, and accident, and nearly or 
quite as many banks to contain their deposits not required for other purposes. 
Large sections of the far west, and the sunny south are owned, through loans 
and mortgages, by the insurance companies ; and large blocks of railroad, 
manufacturing and municipal stocks and bonds are held as securities and as 
investments. The aggregation of wealth is in turn showered all over the 
country, for beneficient aims and civilizing purposes, when it is not needed for 
the widowed and the fatherless, the maimed and the decrepit, the homeless and 
impoverished, all of whose interests are protected and perpetuated. The poor 
western farmer is enabled by eastern capital to complete the clearing, tilling, 
and improvement of his new farm ; the struggling tradesman, to tide over 
financial difficulty, or to establish a paying business on borrowed funds ; and 
thus the great unsettled portion of the republic is gradually being filled up, if 


not always by the descendants of the stalwart and sturdy New England people 
then at least by the use and influence of good Yankee money. 

Wherever there is wealth, there of course is luxury and culture and refine- 
ment. Among coarse people, luxury and style are the only things sought for, 
or bought with their money, and this is the characteristic of new-rich people ; 
but with those who have enjoyed wealth for a long time, or have inherited it, 
we do not expect this transformation. Where a higher state of society is found 
than the bourgeoise or chrvsalis sta^e of existence, mere luxury does not satisfy, 
but there must be an odor of refinement, of good breeding, of excellence, 
which paltry money can not of itself bestow. If we go still higher, we find 
society seeking, besides luxury and refinement, a, certain modicum of culture 
and advanced ideas. Here in Hartford we have all this. 



The Hartford people spend their money freely on art, on books, and 
especially upon music. The city has been called " music mad" by an acute 
observer, but that is hardly the truth ; be that as it may, this is hardly the 
place to cavil at any short-comings. In the field of art, there are a few fine 
private art collections, but of course inaccessible to the general public, different 
customs obtaining here from those in England and on the continent where art 
is worshipped by the many. There is one incomplete public gallery which 
affords some sharp contrasts between the new and the old, the antiquarian 
predominant; but it is possible that a marked improvement may soon be seen 
and felt. In the line of architecture as sharp a contrast between the antique 
and the modern is afforded the beholder on nearly every street, particularly in 
the older portions of the city. The old colonial houses, and the later and more 


classical structures, (with large portico pillars reaching to the second story, 
upholding great pediments and classical ornamentation,) quite out of keeping 
with the light and airy modern habitations alongside, still exist, generally 
placed in the center of large lots and wide lawns which show off their massive 
contours. Gradually, however, these large lots are being divided and sold to 
house-builders with more modern tastes ; so that pretty little villas and Gothic 
and Queen Anne cottages are now plentifully besprinkled between. 

The greatest charm Hartford has in summer is the profusion of ivy which 
clings to and covers entire houses, from the eaves to the ground, sometimes 
draping, but generally trained around, each window, giving it a living frame of 
green, and making a bower that might have satisfied Juliet. There is no house 
so poor that cannot take on this coating of ivy and along with it an English air, 
hiding its bare walls and architectural defects and making it seem, either by 
sunlight or moonlight, a veritable fairy tenement. It is in fact one of the most 



English looking cities, outside of Newport, in this country; but Newport is 
built to order, "very English, you know," with its large mansions or manors, 
manses or lodges, copied after British models, with timbered sides and sharp 
gables. Hartford, on the other hand, has not this air of newness and perhaps 
rawness, but like Topsy has "just growed." 

Added to the ivy coverings, we find smooth-shaven lawns which look like 
green velvet or plush, with attractive beds of colei, cannas, caladiums, 
hydrangeas, and beautiful shrubbery ; as well as fir, spruce, larch, maple and 
other trees, the larger denizens of the forest which have never been cut down 
in the march of improvements, and we have a good idea of Hartford homes in 
general. Another beauty is that fences along the main residence streets are 
almost entirely discarded ; and in places one can look as far as the eye may 
penetrate along the street without encountering the sight of an ugly fence. 


These were only made to keep out cows and smaller vermin ; now that cows 
and dairies have been relegated to the country or at least to the suburbs, there 
is little use for fences, and they are gradually being dispensed with. 

The main streets are lined with large elms, also, which hang and droop 
over the street, in places entirely shading it, rendering the street cool, damp, 
pleasant, and driving a luxury, without dust or glaring sun to dim the eyes and 
fret the temper of the pedestrians or people in vehicles. These drives are 
elegant, some new object of interest presenting itself at every turn, — some 
pretty side street, noble building, cozy cottage, or old rambling house of the 
last century. 

The residence of Mrs. Samuel Colt, called "Armsmear," is one of the 
most attractive in the city. It is of English stucco, presenting a long irregular 
front on Wethersfield Avenue. Mrs. Colt is the widow of the late Samuel Colt, 


of Colt's revolver fame, who amassed a fortune during the war of the rebellion. 
A late writer, (Mr. W. A. Ayers, in the Memorial History of Hartford County) 
pays the following tribute to Colonel Colt : 

" The improvements in the use of steam power came in rapid succession, and are largely responsible 
for the enormous advance in manufactures of the present century. There is no better illustration of the 
radical change made within one hundred years than is furnished in Colt's Armory. These works are 
notable not merely for the magnitude of their operations, the variety of their produce and the number of 
successful inventors and mechanical organizers they have produced, but also as an outgrowth of an idea 
which was conceived by a boy of sixteen and persistently worked out, so that at the age of twenty-one he 
organized a company with a capital of $300,000 for the manufacture of the product." 

" Samuel Colt was born at Hartford, July 19, 18.14. His father, Christopher Colt, was a manufacturer; 
and the boy, who had early shown a taste for mechanics, was employed for a short time in his factory at 
Ware, Massachusetts, when only ten years of age. Then he was sent to school, and at the age of sixteen 
went to sea. On this voyage he made a rough model of a revolver, which contained the germ of the idea 
afterwards developed in his pistol. Returning, after a voyage to Calcutta, he worked in the dyeing and 
bleaching department of his father's factory, obtained some chemical knowledge, and especially became 
interested in nitrous oxide. He conceived the idea of giving lectures, illustrating the use of this gas, — 
laughing gas, — and set out on a tour for this purpose, at the age of eighteen. He traveled under the 
name of Dr. Coult, and followed this life for some two years with such success as to obtain money for 
developing his invention. In 1835, ne wen t to Europe and took out patents there, the American patents 
being taken out on his return. In 1836 he founded a company with a capital of $300,000 at Paterson, 
N. J., for the manufacture of his revolver. The money was sunk in developing the invention, and the 
company became insolvent in 1842, but it produced revolvers which were used in the Seminole war with 
such success that the experience of army men with them was what gave him a new start in business in 
1847, through a Government order at the breaking out of the Mexican war .... The Government 
order was the first step in his, career of success. It was for 1,000 revolvers, and he made arrangements 
to have them built at Whitneyville, New Haven. In the following year he became a manufacturer in 
Hartford, in a small building on the north side of Pearl Street, a little west of Trumbull Street; but within 
a few years conceived the plan of the South Meadow improvements and built the present Armory." 

The rest of the story is too well known to need recapitulation. Sarah, 
daughter of Major Caldwell, a famous sea-captain in Hartford's early maritime 
days, became the wife of Christopher Colt, of Hartford, and mother of Colonel 
Samuel Colt. Christopher Colt was at one time in partnership with his father- 
in-law in his enterprises. Another daughter of Major Caldwell married Jared 
Scarborough, a man of prominence in the last generation but one, who owned 
part of the land on which the American Asylum for the Deaf and Dumb 
("The American School at Hartford for the Deaf") now stands, and also land 
on Prospect Hill, which was known as Scarborough Hill, now Scarborough 
Street. Major Caldwell was a merchant in a large sense, and owned ships 
employed in the West India trade but occasionally making Spanish and 
Mediterranean voyages, and engaged to some extent in coastwise traffic. The 
late Commodore Caldwell H. Colt, son of Col. Colt, was named from him, and 
came well by his aquatic tastes, from his grand-father and father. His yacht, 
Dauntless, now almost dismantled and in moorings, near the mouth of the 
Connecticut river, was, says a late writer, 

" the pet and pride of her owner, Commodore Colt, and of the yachting fleet. On every social yacht- 
ing occasion the old boat was there, looking as trim and taut as the newest and finest of the fleet. The 
commodore's receptions and entertainments, when afloat, were on the grandest scale. No expense was 
spared in keeping the old yacht in sea-going trim. Her jet black hull was as smooth and glossy as a well- 
groomed steed; her spars were as bright as the brightest; the brass work glistened and sparkled in the 
morning sun; her snow-white deck was fit for a queen to walk on, and when full dressed in her cloud of 
white sails, reeling off 12 or 15 knots, she presented a beautiful picture." .... "What will 
eventually become of the old yacht, time only will tell. She is in charge of a keeper at present. The 
Commodore's mother, Mrs. Elizabeth Colt, visited the old yacht several times last summer. " 

Assuredly no more queenly woman ever trod the decks of the Dauntless 
than the Commodore's mother, — the queen indeed, of Hartford society, and 
first and foremost for years in all worthy charitable enterprises, not only of a 
general character but for the betterment of her own sex ; she is the President 
of the Union for Home Work, for instance, and in other benevolent affairs 
takes aleadingpart. She is also President of the Society of Colonial Dames, 



which numbers among its members not only the descendants of the first 
citizens of the infant republic, but of the old Colonial Governors, magistrates, 
divines, doughty captains, valiant ensigns, and "high privates of the rear rank." 
The " Armsmear" estate presents a frontage of nearly half a mile along 
one of Hartford's principal thoroughfares, Wethersfield Avenue, and extends 
back to the river, covering part of the South Meadows, whereon are located the 
extensive buildings of the "Armory." A glimpse or two into the grounds, 
through dense foliage, affords a delightful view of a charming lake, surrounded 
by statuary, fountains, and verdure ; not the least notable is the statue of a 
colt holding a spear in its mouth, an Americanised coat-of-arms, which is 
certainly appropriate. It is not generally known that in England the Colt 
and Coutts family are the same, and that the rich London banker, Baroness 
Burdett-Coutts, probably the richest woman in the world, can perhaps claim 
distant kinship with American congeners of like name and fame. 


Of equal prominence and interest, although of later origin, is the residence 
of the late Major James Goodwin, upon Woodland Street, known universally at 
Hartford as "the Castle;" says Mr. Wm. C. Brocklesby, the architect, in his 
technical description of its beauties : 

" It is constructed of Westerly granite, with rock-face ashlar and finish of the same material, relieved 
by belts and courses of rose granite. The design is Gothic, and all the details are carefully executed. The 
characteristic feature of the principal floor plan is a wide hall, forty-five feet in length, extending entirely 
through the house from east to west, and displaying midway upon one of the side-walls a lofty, hooded 
fire-place, built of Ohio stone, enriched by carving. The stables and coachmen's quarters are so connected 
with the main building as to form a part in the same general design. The prominent feature of the house 
is the square tower, finished at its upper portion in timber work." 

Major James Goodwin was born March 2, 1803, and was son of James 
Goodwin of Hartford, a descendant of Ozias, one of our first settlers. At the 
age of sixteen he became a clerk for Joseph Morgan, whose daughter Lucy he 
married in 1832. Before he had completed his twenty-first year he had 



become the proprietor of the principal line of mail stages east of Hartford. In 
a few years he and his associates owned and controlled all the more important 
lines leading out of Hartford. Between 1835 an d 1840 he had, however, 
disposed of all his stage interests, foreseeing the coming power and extent of 
railways, and in 1839 he became a director of the then Hartford and New 
Haven Railroad. 

He was one of the original incorporators of the Connecticut Mutual Life 
Insurance Company. In 1848 he was' elected its president, and remained in 
that position until the time of his death, with the exception of an interregnum 
of three years, when Dr. Guy R. Phelps was the president. 

" His name will always be closely identified with it. His courage, self-reliance, and foresight made 
him a leader and he had the full confidence of the community alike as to his judgment and his integrity. 
His shaping hand is manifest in all the affairs with which he was connected. His life was marked with 
constant usefulness and beneficence." 

He died March 15, 1878. 
We have frequently heard 
been if Colonel Colt and Major 

the remark: "What would Hartford have 
Goodwin had lived until now ! " It is highly 


probable that these two sturdy souls, had they lived until today, or possibly 
either one of them alone, would have materially altered the topography and 
environment of the city, especially at the opposite ends of it in which they 
lived. It is possible also that a dearth of interest in the city's welfare, a lack of 
progress after the war, a lull in its industrial activity and mechanical supremacy, 
would have been tided over by ways and means at their command, and by 
their energetic example and dominant spirit. But there have been reasons for 
this subsidence, almost desuetude, which the wise ones will not have far to 
go to find. Manufacturers have not been encouraged by certain factions and 
interests, when they are really the sinews of civilization. Political influences 



have produced demoralization in certain directions ; but most of all a decided 
inertia among the moneyed classes. 

While we may not have them among us to-day, as hale and hearty octo- 
genarian and nonogenarian Nestors, we have in their stead others who worthily 
and amply represent them. Of Mrs. Colt's active beneficence we have already 
spoken. Major Goodwin left two sons, James Junius Goodwin and Rev. 
Francis Goodwin, to whom Hartford owes more, directly and indirectly, than it 
will ever be able to repay, in a material sense. They have been prominent 
in church and school, in park and library affairs, for years ; and we are safe in 
saying that the end is not yet, in any of these varied directions, if projects 
already gradually forming and gathering volume are any indication. Their 
interest in the Wadsworth Athenaeum and Hartford Public Library, in Trinity 
parish and church, in the now rapidly evolving Hartford park system, individu- 




ally and as trustees of the will of the late Henry Keney (empowered to 
purchase land for a park to be called "Keney Park") and in divers educational, 
historical, commercial, and municipal affairs, have endeared them to their 
fellow-townsmen thrice over. 

Mr. James Junius Goodwin has displayed creditable interest in historical 
and genealogical matters, and at his instigation a history of the Goodwin family 
has been prepared, under the supervision of the indefatigable professional 
genealogist, Mr. Frank Farnsworth Starr, who was sent to England on several 
occasions to secure all obtainable data. It is also to the credit and honor of the 
same gentleman that through his aid and encouragement the genealogy of 
George Washington has been at last unraveled and authenticated and pub- 
lished in book form. Mr. Henry F. Waters, in London, the veteran genealo- 
gist achieved this work. 



There are several houses of almost as imposing appearance that claim our 
attention, but space will not permit extended mention. On a lesser scale, and 
almost as beautiful, is the residence of Franklin Chamberlain, a leading lawyer, 
built " chiefly of broken granite, while the belt courses and finish around the 
windows are of red brick, giving a very rich appearance." On Albany Avenue 
is a spacious, but not very ornate house, crowned with a tower, the residence 
of the Hon. James Goodwin Batterson. 

On the western edge of Hartford, over two miles from the city's center, 
lies Prospect Hill, along the top of which for nearly a mile, stretches the far- 
famed Prospect Avenue, a nearly level boulevard, on the western side of which, 
and just outside the city's limits which reach the middle of the street, lie the 
houses of some of the richest residents — not of Hartford, but of West 
Hartford — who do business in Hartford and yet escape that city's high taxes 
on their suburban homes. A strenuous effort has been made to include this 


section within the limits of the city of Hartford, in order to take advantage of 
water supply, sewerage, electric lighting, and schools of the city. But the 
western section of the town of West Hartford is not favorable to the proposi- 

For nearly a mile west of Prospect Avenue, the land rises with gentle 
slope, until it culminates in what is known sometimes as " Hamilton Heights " 
and at other times as " Vanderbilt Hill," — to the electric car men, it is simply 
a station yclept " Vanderbilt," dispensing with unnecessary verbiage. Between 
Prospect Hill and Vanderbilt Hill is a well-settled region, now known as the 
"Morning Slope" among its romantic denizens; the society in this section 
being known as " The Neighborhood," since the formation of the " Neighbor- 
hood Club " which gave the initial impetus to the foundation and building of 
the Prospect Casino, to afford this section a place for entertainments and social 
enjoyment ; they were too far from the city's center to enjoy city entertainments, 


and reach home in good season by the slow-going horse cars, which would 
perhaps land them home somewhere towards the "wee, sma' hours," and 
the electric service was so long in coming to perfection that they chose the 
other horn of the dilemma and built the casino. It has but recently been 
opened, with pre-Lenten gaiety, by its projectors, and a distinguished social 
event it was. The building is a modest structure in an architectural sense, but 
has a fine assembly room, a well-fitted stage, parlors, card-rooms, billiard- 
rooms, and a bowling alley, together with a wide verandah that can be enclosed 
with bunting, affording a delightful promenade. 

" Vanderbilt Hill" derives its name from the fact that at one time the 
residence of Cornelius Vanderbilt, son of "The Commodore," was built thereon 
especially to his tastes, but for unforeseen circumstances over which he had no 
control, he did not live to enjoy it long. It was then sold at auction by the 
administrators of the estate of the deceased, at a sacrifice, to Wm. H. Spooner, 
of Bristol, R. I., of whom its present owner, Mr. Ira Dimock, purchased it, in 
1889, at a still further sacrifice, after having stood long vacant. The house 
stands on a plot of eleven acres, and the house itself, including veranda, is 100 
by 1 10 feet, which may give a good idea of its enormous size. To be more 
explicit, there are three main halls, 16 by 44 feet and about thirty rooms of 
various sizes, eight of which are 20 by 36 feet. The billiard room, in the 
octagon tower is twenty-four feet in height, with a gallery around its sides, for 
spectators. Standing on high ground itself, the view from the house in all 
directions is hardly surpassed in the State. The weather-vane is about one 
hundred feet high above the foundation, and from that dizzy height, if it were 
possible to attain it, the view would be entrancing, looking down even upon the 
gilded dome of the capitol. The total height of the capitol, itself, is over 250 
feet, and on a considerable eminence also. 

There are later structures that are almost in line with those mentioned in 
size and structural beauty. The Charles R. Forrest home, constructed two or 
three years since, under the supervision of Hon. John R. Hills, as contractor, 
on the corner of Asylum Avenue and Gillette Street, and extending back to 
Niles, on a large tract, is one of the most showy houses in the city, is said to 
contain fifty rooms, en suite, and is a veritable palace inside in which one could 
without difficulty become lost. A few years ago this was one of the most for- 
bidding and unattractive corners in the city, occupied by some old huts that 
were picturesque if not appropriate. There are several other houses, to which 
'we wish to call attention, in future issues, but are obliged to delay the consid- 
eration until another time, owing to lack of space herein. Some of these are 
very old and antiquated, some recent and modern, while still others are in 
course of erection, and it is not fitting to treat of them while incomplete. 

" Home is not merely roof and room — 

It needs something to endear it. 
Home is where the heart can bloom, 

Where there's some kind lip to cheer it ! 
What is home with none to meet, 

None to welcome, none to greet us? 
Home is sweet and only sweet, 

Where there's one who loves to meet us. 


Broad highways reaching about, verdure crowned hills rising from shady 
valleys, babbling brooks and noisy waterfalls almost hidden in luxuriant foliage, 
thrifty farms dotting the landscape in every direction, — such is Granby. Its 
aspect is always well bred ; Granby is never indecorous. From the state line to 
the Farmington, — and this is the Dan and Beersheba of Granby, — the country 
is always inviting, never wearisome. Though the same rough-hewn chestnut 
fences zig-zag across the fields, the same white farm-houses with green blinds 
line the roadsides, the same Jersey cows graze in the meadows ; yet, each one 
of the Granbys is distinct from the others and possesses a charm of its own. 

From the broad expanse of fertile fields and meadows of Granby Street to 
the outskirts of the town among the rugged hills of Hartland is a long step, but 
the people are the same. The sturdy independence and shrewdness which 
characterize the New Englander have left their mark upon Granby. One 
knows the old Puritan stock at sight, wherever found. It is true that the sun 
never sets on New Englanders. Whether planting vineyards in northern Ohio, 
" punching" cattle in Texas, prospecting for gold in California, king-making at 
Honolulu, tasting tea at Hong Kong, speculating in oil at Baku, or photo- 
graphing the midnight sun at Hammerfest, the Yankee always turns up. 

Listen to the conversation at the village store at the " corners " of a 
Saturday evening, when the bronzed farmers gather about on benches and up- 
turned boxes, while waiting for the mail to be sorted. The most weighty 
problems of the day are discussed pro and con, and decided, not always 
logically, but oftentimes extremely convincing. Among the hills neighbors are 
few, and it is only by these visits to the general store that their knowledge of 
the world can be aired. 

It is a grand sight, — these Hartland hills in October. The deep emerald 
of the woods has changed to a glorious gold and red and brown, each color 
intensified by the crisp air and the late morning sun which breaks upon the 
leafy expanse in a shimmer of burnished gold. No sign of life is seen, save 
here and there a tiny ribbon of blue smoke curling upward which betokens the 



wood-chopper's hut or the pile of the charcoal burner. Verily, October is 
the month in which to see the hills in all their magnificence. Nature then puts 
forth her last and best effort, before grim Winter lays on his chilly hand. In 
the short space of a few weeks this riot of color will be hidden under the snow 
and the winds will whistle about the heads of the sturdy pines, the only green 
survivors of the scene before us; then, rushing down the valleys will pile the 
white carpet over the frozen streams and against the bare brown rocks. 

One day I was riding along the slopes of the hills, enjoying the 
panorama of plain and valley spread out almost beneath me. The body of the 
wagon lurched to and fro as the wheels slid from one stone to another in the 
road-bed. This jolting naturally prevented any connected conversation but, 
notwithstanding this, my driver was giving me a glowing account of the fine 
country through which we were passing. I listened respectfully, and at length 
ventured, "Were you born here?" He stopped short in his remarks and 
giving me a look of unutterable pity, ejaculated, "Born here, eh?" "Why, 
mister, I was born all over this country," — giving a magnificent sweep of his 


arm to indicate the extent of it. I too was born here, but only in a little 
cottage by the village green. So I looked at him with awe and admiration and 
held my peace. What an extensive personage to be sure, and how insignificant 
I was beside him. 

Granby Center, or Granby Street as it is familiarly called, lies in the best 
cultivated and most fertile part of the town. The principal residences cluster 
about the broad street bordered with noble elms. Such a street one may see 
in many New England towns, but rarely elsewhere. This portion of Granby is 
becoming a summer resort for the city man. Away from the close proximity 
of railroads and the influx of foreigners, his children can run about in safetv, 
enjoying the health-giving properties of the country air, while the man himself 
can come hither at the close of day, loll about on the verandah, or doze in his 
hammock, out among the trees, until bed-time. On the village green a 
monument of brown-stone has been erected in memory of the brave sons 
of Granby who left their farms in '61 at the country's call, to fight and die on 
distant battle-fields. In many instances their last resting places may be 
unknown but their deeds will never pass from memory. 

1 36 



To the westward of Granby Street is West Granby. Among the hills, we 
are again. Hills to the right, hills to the left, hills everywhere, with noisy 
brooks tumbling over the boulders in miniature eddies and cascades. The 
disciples of Isaac Walton may find here sport in plenty. Though the streams 
are difficult of access 
the result will well 
repay the fisherman. 
The mills sing merrily 
as the keen edge of the 
saw eats its way 
through the toughest 
monarchs of the forest, 
while the slow, patient 
water-wheel, as if 
knowing its power, 
seems loth to part 
with the dripping crys- 
tals so eager to rush 
away to the ocean. 
No wilder portion of 
Connecticut can be 
found than in some parts of West Granby. Living, here, is a synonym for toil, 
for the earth refuses to yield up its plenty. I have seen little fellows with bare 
brown legs trudging along behind a drove of cows at an age when city young- 
sters would be building block houses in the nursery. But what sturdy men 

they make ; and when 
transplanted to other 
scenes, how quickly rail- 
roads are built and cities 
erected where before was 

From almost any 
point in W T est Granby the 
Barn Door Hills are dis- 
cernible and form a 
prominent part of the 
landscape. It is a pity 
that this ridiculous name 
should be attached to these 
two hills — a name which 
belies their beauty and 
shows a certain paucity 
of thought which could 
easily have been reme- 
died. A roadway runs 
between the two hills 
while on either side rise 
the precipitous rocks to a 
great height. Nothing but a steep path and a strong pair of limbs will take 
you to the top, but the view of the surrounding country well repays for the 
effort. Granby lies all about you. Away to the north the sunlight glitters 
across the surface of Congamond lakes like a silver tray on a green cloth. Still 
further northward Mount Tom and Mount Holyoke blend their blue shapes in 




the purple haze on the horizon. Eastward, Granby Street lies spread out, 
almost under your feet and then the low range of hills which slopes down to the 
immediate valley of the Connecticut. To the south you look down upon the 
smiling valley of the Farmington. As far as the eye can reach in this direction 
is the same and never-ending prospect of a noble river flowing through 
meadows of deepest green and upon whose banks cluster prosperous farming 
and manufacturing towns. Simsbury, Collinsville, Farmington, Avon and 
Granby all belong to this hierarchy. Westward, the tall hills of Hartland and 
Barkhamsted rise abruptly before your eyes, completely shutting out the world 
in this direction. Their tree-clad summits seem to say to your vision, "'Thus 
far shalt thou go and no farther.' Therefore be seated on yonder moss-covered 
rock and reflect well upon this glorious country which is shown thee, and seek 
not to look farther lest thou seest things which are not so beautiful." 

North Granby reaches to the state line and is the oldest of the Granbys. 
A public library was opened here, in 1 
Frederick H. Cossitt, of New York. 

S91, through the generosity of the late 
As a barefooted lad he had worked on a 




farm in North Granby, leaving at the age of sixteen to make his fortune in the 
world. Mr. Cossitt afterward became a wealthy merchant in New York but 
never forgot the hillsides where as a boy he had lived. In his will a sum of 
money was left to North Granby for the erection and maintenance of a library. 
The building is a tasty structure, centrally located and what is better still, well 
patronized. The library cost about $3,500, and contains nearly three thousand 
volumes. Show me a town in which there is a free library liberally patronized 
and I will show you a community which has thrown off the trammels of a self 
satisfied existence while the men and women of it are living lives more valuable 
to themselves and the world at large. A library like this one is a blessing 
wherever it is located. Granby may well be proud of it and proud of the man 
whose generosity prompted the giving of it. 

About a mile from the Cossitt Library is an old mill and a rocky gorge 
through which tumbles a wild mountain brook. Crag Mill Gorge it is called 



and the place is only saved celebrity because of its seclusion. In summer the 
dense green foliage almost completely hides the spot and were it not for the 
deep, sullen roar of the water plunging over the rocks, the wayfarer would pass 
it by unnoticed. To stand 

on the bridge over the 

pond and watch the black 
water tumble and foam in 
the rocky depths below is 
well worth the notice of any 
one. In winter, enormous 
icicles hang thickly on the 
walls of this miniature 
canon, while the ice heaped jg| 
up below in fantastic forms 
makes a veritable fairy 
realm. The stream soon 
leaves the gorge with a 
roar, and plunging between ^ 
two huge rocks, flows 
blandly through the fields 
beyond, bearing naught but 
a fleck of foam on its 
bosom to tell of its recent ^^ 
struggle. This same stream 
flows into Cranberry Ponds 
at Mechanicsville, which 
abound with fish and water-lilies, then out 
wheels of many mills, and finally adding 



and onward again 
its volume to the 

turning the 


Granby Street is oftentimes called Salmon Brook from this stream, or as the 
old residents say, Salmon Brook Street. 

One bright spring day I was, by request, photographing the parsonage in 
a certain part of Granby. The good man and his wife, I had placed on the 


verandah, while near them, I believe, stood the two grand-children of the worthy 
couple. About the instrument had gathered a little semi-circle of bare-footed 
urchins to watch the proceedings. Most of them were munching huge slices 
of bread dripping with molasses, — that universal juvenile luncheon. All was 
ready when suddenly over the brow of the hill appeared another little chap, 
also with his bread and molasses, and running to join the group as fast as his 
brown legs could carry him. At sight of this addition to their number, the 
company about me set up a shout, " Hurry up, come see the telephone ! " 
" It's goin' off ! " This caused no little hilarity. After the commotion had 
subsided, I resumed operations, procured my picture and departed, accom- 
panied at a respectful distance by the wondering crowd. 

The ruins of Newgate prison are in East Granby, and by reason of the 
traditional and historical lore which lingers around the decaying walls, it 
demands more notice than can be given here. Perched on the side of the 
mountain, Newgate is visible to the eye long before one reaches the spot by 
the winding road. Like some feudal ruin, a thing of the past, it clings to this 
generation merely by its old time associations. The struggle which gave birth 
to this country witnessed the first years of Newgate. The prison dates from 


1773 and was used for fifty-four years, or until 1827, at which time the convicts 
were transferred to Wethersfield and made to walk the entire distance in chains. 
During its palmy days the confinement was very rigorous ; but later the prison 
discipline was relaxed and escapes became frequent. During the Revolution, 
troublesome Tories were brought here and allowed to reflect on patriotism. 
The records do not show however that this treatment cured many of them of 
their attachment to George III. The several buildings which composed the 
prison are arranged around three sides of an inclosure which formed the prison 
yard. A strong wall of stone, twelve feet in height incloses the yard on the 
side toward the road ; entrance being gained through an archway which was 
once closed by a massive iron gate. The building which is at the south of the 
prison yard is yet standing but the interior has mostly decayed and fallen in a 
confused heap of floor timbers and partition walls. In this part were located 
the kitchen, shoe shop, cooper shop, and the chapel for divine worship. Ad- 
joining this on the west is the best preserved portion of the old prison. The 
cells here are partly underground, — cold and damp in the hottest days of sum- 
mer. From their barred windows the eye looks into, and miles up and down, 
the valley below. This view is a grand one and you can easily imagine the 



longings which would come over the poor shivering wretch within, as he 
pressed his haggard face against the iron rods of his window and surveyed the 
scene before him. 

Newgate was built directly over a copper mine which was worked some 
years prior to the existence of the prison, and afterward by the convicts them- 
selves. The guide takes you down a long ladder into the darkness below and 
then hands you a candle. You follow him as best you can, slipping along on 
the smooth rocks. Above ground it is ninety in the shade, but here one shivers 
with cold. A chamber cut into the solid rock is shown where a negro was 
chained and the holes in the floor show where his manacles were fastened. 
Barbarous punishments were common in those days and the thought makes the 
visitor anxious to leave 
hastily for the fair world 
above ground. One's 
progress outward is 
greatly accelerated too, 
for when passing through 
a sort of " Fat man's 
misery," you are com- 
pelled to bend nearly 
double while the icy 
water, dripping from the 
ceiling, has a pleasant 
way of trickling down 
your spine, having en- 
tered at an unguarded 
point between your collar 
and you. Volumes might 
be written about Newgate 
— of the daring escapes, the life of the inmates, of hopes deferred and memories 
of the time. Only the merest sketch can of course be given here. 

As you pass out through the gateway of the old prison and drive down 
into the valley below, one more look is cast upward at its vine-clad walls 
thrown into bold relief by the dark blue shale covering the precipitous side of 
the mountain in the background. Granby, indeed, cannot be known in a fort- 
night. We have merely glimpsed, as it were, at its aspect to-day, and we have 
explored, but hastily, the ruins of its past, so we resolve to return again at 
another time. 




And sweet homes nestle in these dales, 

And perch along these wooded swells, 

And, blest beyond Arcadian vales, 

They hear the sound of Sabbath bells ! 

Here dwells no perfect man sublime, 

No woman winged before her time 

But with the faults, and follies of the race, 

Old home-bred virtues hold their not unhonored place." 

Why Simsbury? There is much in a name notwithstanding Shakespear- 
ean philosophy. New York, Chicago, Boston. Could they have become 
great cities had they been blanketed with the name Simsbury? Some authentic 
historical reason for exchanging the musical Indian name Massaco for colorless 
Simsbury would make it more endurable, but the search-light of the historian 
reveals but conflicting guesses. The name of a place, however, with which 
we have no acquaintance, is but an abstraction. Knowing it, it becomes concrete, 


and the frame-work and background of a series of pictures and impressions. 
Though the name, Simsbury, be without suggestiveness to the strange ear, to 
those who have watched the seasons come and go, from her quiet homes, and to 
the passer-by, whose soul is touched by the beautiful, this name will turn many 
exquisite pages, in memory's album. 

Simsbury is a mine of that wealth of which the man may possess most who 
has greatest capacity to receive. The great charm of the place is variety. It 
has some attractive features for almost every taste. Those who love mountain 
scenery may wander along the granite hills on the west or the trap ledges on 




the east. They may climb the " Pinnacle, " and look down on pretty Lake 
" Bijou," lying like a pearl in emerald setting, or to the cedar-fringed summit 
of Mt. Philip, towering nearly a thousand feet above the river-ribboned 
meadows of Massaco. From this far famed "royal view" may be traced the 
old drift-" kames" by the deep green of the pines which clothe their sterile 
summits. Far to the north and west, Tom, Holyoke, and distant Greylock 
salute you through the purple haze. In the west arises that wild tumult of 
hills, which conceal in their bosom the grand old towns of Litchfield and 

If the more quiet scenery of a river valley affords greater pleasure — search 
out and feast upon the unsung beauties of the Farmington, a stream which 
would have ravished the soul of Wordsworth or David Gray. For miles the 
road follows the river where the waters flash to the eye their fresco of over- 
arching elms, with background of blue sky and fleecy cloud, and where 
river-bank on the one hand and hedge-row on the other, seem to compete, in 


wild luxuriance of flowers, grasses, and tangles of clematis and woodbine. 
Northward the stream winds through well-tilled meadows, where the projecting 
coves are almost concealed beneath a thin garment of peltate leaves, and starry 
lilies. At length, turning sharply eastward its tortured waters plunge wildly 
over the rocks of the mountain pass. 

For some, the forests have peculiar charm. There are many drives 
through the wooded belt, running north by south nearly through the center 
of the township. These give cool, refreshing shelter which the fierce heat of the 
summer sun can scarcely penetrate, where toiling, weary brutes, and men who 
are not brutes, breathe gratitude. Masses of ferns, and banks of soft cool moss 
tempt the passer-by to recline in dreamy reverie and listen to the monotone of 
the wind, playing upon its mighty sylvan organ. 

Simsbury offers rich enjoyment to any student who delights in reading the 
long story of creation, — for nowhere on the face of the earth can more forma- 
tions, distinct in character, be found within the limit of a few hours' walk. Here 
granite, trap, sandstone and the erratic rocks chant their tragic epics for those 



who " have ears to hear." Not less of interest will here be found for the 
botanist. From showery April, when that sweet gift of the glacier smiles its 
greeting from beneath the leaves, — to chill November, when the deep fringed 
gentian seems to chide the trees for putting off their summer robes so soon, 
broad flower-besprinkled meadows, deep orchid-hiding woods, hedge-row, 
marsh, mountain cliff and glen will reward the patient seeker after Flora's 

Some, believing that " the proper study of mankind is man," would 
search the fading pages of history. No tragic scene of the world's great drama 
has been enacted here. The history of Simsbury is the story of a sturdy, self- 
dependent, God-fearing, home-loving people, who spared neither blood, nor 
fortune when the "drum beat" sounded to that great struggle for indepen- 
dence, or that more terrible death grapple with the dark demon of sin, whose 
voice of wild satiric laughter had ever mingled its discords with our " anthems 
of the free." Armed with such preparation as the " destrict school " and village 



lyceum„ afforded, her "Miltons" and "village Hamptons" have not all remained 
"mute [and inglorious." Simsbury has given to the National Army, able 
officers ; to Congress, wise statesmen ; to the Executive, a Comptroller, a Secre- 
tary of the Treasury, and a distinguished foreign minister ; to our Colleges, two 
Presidents; to the Episcopal Church, a Bishop; to Missouri, a Governor; to 
New York City, merchant princes, and to the professions prominent members. 
Simsbury was the second town of the Tunxis Valley to invite the English 
settler. In 1643, John Griffin and Michael Humphrey came from Windsor and 
commenced the manufacture of tar. A certain Indian, Manahannoose, " did 
wittingly kindle a fire " which proved disastrous to their enterprise. The Court 
decreed, that " in default of payment of five hundred string of wampum," he 
should " serve or be shipped in exchange for neagers." He seems to have 
escaped this penalty by giving the injured tar-makers a deed of Massaco. 
The township has several times been divided. East Granby, (where old 
Newgate prison is located), Granby, North Canton and Canton having, in great 
part, been formed from its original territory. 



Simsbury is located northwest of Hartford, in the northern part of that 
valley rent from the broad Connecticut by the convulsions following the 
Jurassic epoch. Scattered over its area, are numerous small villages, the one 
known as Simsbury being near the center. These are, with two or three 
exceptions, arranged along the streets running north and south on either 
side of the river. North, on the east side of the river, is located the once 

thriving village of Tariff- 
ville. Desolating fires, 
with a series of other mis- 
fortunes, have checked its 
prosperity. The "long 
road," of its misfortunes, 
now seems to have reached 
its " turning." It is won- 
derfully picturesque in its 
surroundings, and the 
scenery attracts many to 
the "Bartlett Tower," 
located on a mountain 
near by. From Tariff- 
ville southward the drive 
commands the most charming river and meadow scenery. Where the old 
Windsor road descends the mountain is a little hamlet known as "Terry's 
plain." Fair and delectable indeed must have seemed the virgin face of Massaco 
as seen first from this mountain crest, and one cannot wonder that Griffin and 
Humphrey (the "Caleb" and "Joshua" sent to spy out the land) resolved to 
settle here, notwithstanding the " Anakim." 




. ... * 


About two miles of road, mostly along the river bank brings us to East 
Weatogue, a pretty, restful hamlet. The morning sun is late in driving away 
the mountain shadows, but the wide westward vista lengthens out the day with 
glowing sunsets. Here the >Hartford road winds over the mountain. From 
the summit of the last steep descent, the song of turbulent waters will fall 



upon the ear. Would you enjoy one of the daintiest bits of scenery ; swing 
down the deep ravine and follow the laughing cascades through the gloom of 
the rock-walled canon. 

In this village stands the oldest house of the township, known as the 
" Bacon Place" or " Ft. George." Built in 171 7, though somewhat bowed with 


age, its massive timbers yield but slowly to the ravages of time. Tradition tells 
of wild scenes here in the old days of ^warfare. There also is located that fine 
example of colonial architecture, the " Humphrey Place," at present occupied 


by the lineal descendants of that Michael Humphrey who with John Griffin first 
invaded the primeval forests of Massaco. 

On the opposite side of the river lies the sister village, West Weatogue, in 
former days the business center of the place. The " old inhabitant " still boasts 



of those halcyon times. Here was the village store, and the school where John 
Slater was, by vote of the town, authorized " to teach the youths to read, write, 
cypher and say the rules of arathmetack," and here another teacher of great 


local fame taught grammar by machinery. With growth of business in another 
part of the town, the star of her prosperity set, but only to rise again rc with 


increased splendor. Her prophet no longer chants his Jeremiads from her 
ruins. The " spirit of the renaissance " is sweeping over her, everywhere 



transforming the unsightly into the beautiful. Old farm houses burst from the 
chrysalis into towered mansions. An artistic granite fountain, — " in memo- 
riam " of the beloved physician, Dr. White, — ornaments her pretty green. Even 
the old school house, has put off her simple gown and come out in a brand 
new suit, with a " Romanesque " flounce. 

Separated from Weatogue by the loveliest of drives through the fragrant 
pines is Bushy Hill. A bushy hill no longer. Her ill-kept farms, where men 
often failed in the struggle with nature because of the heavy tribute paid 
" King Alcohol," have come into the possession of the Rev. D. Stuart Dodge, 
the Messrs Arthur, Norman, and Walter Phelps Dodge, the sons and grand- 
son of the late William E. Dodge of New York; and her hills, commanding a 
wide circle of exquisite scenery, are being crowned with stately mansions. 
Bushy hill is honored by the association of distinguished names. In her 
humble farmhouses were born Anson G. Phelps the successful man of business 


and philanthropist, and John J. Phelps, the merchant prince. His son the 
eminent statesman and diplomat, William Walter Phelps, spent here man}' days 
of his childhood and youth. 

About two miles westward, where the road from the granite mountains 
enters the valley between twin frowning ledges of intrusive trap, nestles the little 
village of West Simsbury, or "The Farms," a place lying at the threshold of 
the most charming and unique scenery. 

About two miles north of Weatogue is the central village, which takes the 
township name, Simsbury. It is built along a terrace, between the wooded 
bluff and the river meadows. Entering from the Bushy hill or Farms road, 
you will pass the old Mill which still grinds the grists, and takes the toll, as in 
days of yore. A little down the stream stands the old distillery. It is now 
many years since barefoot lads and lassies, with tin pails and pennies, 
descended the winding path, and climbed the stile to get " a mess of emptin's," 
as yeast was called. 



The road describes a half circle 
Congregational Church, a building 


at the foot of the hill, where stands the 
of classic proportions, and of a simple 
chaste style which harmonized 
with the age and worship of its 
time. Admire its exterior. 
Do not enter until a mistake 
of a few years s i n c e b e 
remedied, and the sober Puri- 
tan meeting-house be dis- 
robed of its gaudy attire. 
Northward for nearly a mile 
the street extends, straight as 
an arrow, broad, sentinelled 
b y magnificent el m s and 
sycamores. The accompany- 
ing views will give hints of its 
beauty. Aside from the 
many fine modern houses are 
many places of historic inter- 

The Amos R. Eno man- 
sion stands on a finely shaded 
eminence, overlooking the 
valley. Built by the Hon. 
Elisha Phelps, — the father of 
Mrs. Eno, — the recent 
changes in the building seem 
rather to emphasize its old- 
time dignity and atmosphere 
of hospitality. Here for nearly 
a half century, the queenly 
hostess won the love of high 
and low; and the farmer lad 
of fourscore years ago, — hav- 
ing fought life's battle in the great metropolis, and won not only " great riches," 
but that "good name" honored and respected by all, — has come here for quiet 
and rest in his declining 

Simsbury numbers 
among her most valu- 
able institutions, "The 
Free Library," a gift 
from Mr. Eno. to his 
birth-place. The build- 
ing is designed in har- 
mony with its surround- 
ings, and, within and 
without, is a fine expres- 
sion of colonial architec- 
ture. The library, 
nourished by a liberal fund, removes from the youth of Simsbury any barrier 
from culture. 

In the center of the village, where was once the church-yard is the 






Cemetery. For two and a quarter centuries, groups of people, with sad eyes, 
and aching hearts, have climbed this beautiful hillside, to lay away the tene- 
ment of some beloved soul. Whether the earth were covered with snow or 
violets, in sunshine and storm, the sad burial words have been spoken, but 
when the trembling voice strikes the brighter strain, " I am the resurrection and 
the life," the restful beauty of the scene seems to turn the thought from the 


" city of the dead," to that city whose Builder and Maker is He who giveth and 
taketh away. The limit of this paper forbids tarrying among the quaint head- 
stones and quainter inscriptions. Passing the little group of stores, the old 
Ensign homestead stands on the left, with its lilac bushes and cinnamon roses, 

and nearly opposite the 
Jeffrey O. Phelps man- 
sion, built in 1 77 1, — 
in colonial days the 
famous "Phelps 
Tavern,". Now take 
off your hat and make 
obeisance to the 
monarch of the 
street, — King Ulmus. 
I can never consciously 
pass under this tree 
without a feeling of 
reverence. It c o m - 
bines, more than any 



other I have ever seen, great size, symmetry, grace, impressiveness of strength 
and character. Beautiful as it is clothed in its summer robe, — it is even more 
impressive when the lofty arches of its giant arms are thrown against the face 
of the moon or the clear blue of the winter sky. 

The "Dr. Barber house" was built in 1762, and soon came into the posses- 
sion of Major Elihu Humphrey, an ancestor of its late occupant. When 
Lexington roused the land, the Major gathered his company on the green 



before this house, — on the eve before their departure to Boston, — and here the 
tearful farewells were said to wives and mothers. To the shelter of this roof 
the wounded warrior was brought to breathe away his ebbing life. 

Under the pine-covered bluff, — facing meadow and mountain is the 
McLean Seminary, a school founded and named in honor of the Rev. Allen 
McLean, for fifty-two years the beloved pastor of the Congregational Church. 

The " Elizur Eno House," located in that continuation of the street called 
Westover plain, is the oldest but one in the town, built about 1750. It is a fine 
old structure, reposing under a mammoth elm of great age and beauty. Here 
at one time were quartered some French officers. A quarrel arising at dinner, 
one threw the carving knife, which missing his antagonist, buried itself in the 
casing, where the gash can now be seen. I have given but a glimpse of this 


fair valley and its traditions. Would you see more? Study for yourself the 
tapestry of its meadows, the frescoes of its skies, the pictures on its mountain 
walls, and the resting-place of its children, with the names engraven there. 

From mossy mound and grassy hillock gliding, 

With noiseless step we come ; 
Wishful to learn of good or ill, betiding 

The old remembered home ; 
A band of brothers we, who sleep where weeping willows grow, 
Your great grand-fathers, dead and gone, one hundred years ago. 


By the Indians under King Philip, March 26, 1676. 


On the heights o'er the silent town, 
Philip, the Chief, stood gazing down. 

Folded the arms that bore no spear ; 
Clouded the face that knew no fear. 

Might was right, and the chieftain knew 
That his braves were many, his foes were few 

Quiet the hamlet that Sabbath morn ; 
Scarce a breeze waved the budding thorn ; 

While, silent and dusky as shadows, crept 
Demons whose vengeance never slept. 

Philip, the Chief, stood gazing down 
From his lofty tower, on the doomed town, 

While riot and pillage were going on, 
Till day was ended and light was gone. 

Then night's pall fell o'er the saddening sight, 
And dense clouds covered the moon's pale light — 

While from burning pyre, at the day's dark close 
The stifling smoke in clouds arose. 

And what was a hamlet at early morn, 
With memories dear, in God's light born, 

At night was a mass of ruins wide, 
With sad desolation on every side. 

And Philip, the Chief, smiled grimly, when 
The work was done to his bidding ; then 

Silent and stern, he sat him down 

While the smoke rose in wreaths from the ruined town. 

Now strangers visit the craggy height, 
Where Philip stood on that Sabbath night ; 

* NOTE: "This event took place on Sunday, the twenty-sixth of March, 1676 — the pillaging in the day-time, and 
the burning of the settlement in the succeeding night. Philip, it is said by tradition, seated upon a neighboring mountain, 
which has ever since born his name, (' Philip's Seat,' one of the Talcott range) viewed the scene, and enjoyed from its con- 
templation those emotions of pleasure which, it is supposed, are peculiarly agreeable to all his race, when placed under similar 
circumstances." — Phelps's History of Simsbury. The people being forewarned of the Indian raid, received an order to remove 
at once " to some of the neighboring plantations." Mr. Phelps says, "In obedience to this order, every white person was 
removed from the town with all possible despatch." 


With pleasure they view the village fair 
That sprung from the ashes of dark despair. 

And thoughts go back to that fated age 
That received the blows of Philip's rage ; 

To the many who felt his vengeance dire, 
From the prattling babe to the hoary sire. 

Thanks be to God, those days are past, 
That cries for vengeance were heard at last : 

For Philip was slain, and his warrior braves 
Sleep now in scattered and unknown graves. 

And though the cliff o'er some may cast 
A spell of terror, from deeds long past, 

Though grandsires may often tell the tale, 
Sweet Peace folds her wings o'er this lovely vale. 



You tricksy and nickering "Will o' the Wisp ! " 

You dazzle, deceive us, and lead us astray. 
We follow, forever, your beckoning taper 

Until we are lost, left alone, in dismay. 

Pray tell us, fair spirit, who ever art sought for, 

For whom men have lived and for whom men have died — 

Whom men have longed for, mourned for, and fought for — 
In what remote region you in secret abide. 

How we hasten onward and struggle to catch you, 
To follow your leading; what suffering and pain 

We endure in the chase, how faint and how weary 
When we find that our toil has been vain. 

You fly from our grasp and still beckon us onward ; 

Again in the distance your light glints and flashes. 
We labor from youth for you, onward to manhood 

When nothing remains but our heart's smouldering ashes. 


(July 16, 1774.) 


Here it is, a living document, as fresh and glowing as when it came that 
July day from the Sons of Liberty and Windham. Its victim was their 
especial pride and champion — their tallest, strongest, bravest, handsomest, 
most accomplished citizen — Colonel Eleazer Fitch. Descended from those old 
Connecticut fathers, Major John Mason and Rev. James Fitch, he had done 
honor to his ancestry : had served with distinction in the French war, and filled 
most acceptably the office of County Sheriff. In war, in business, in domestic 
relations, he was alike fortune's favorite. But now, just as he had passed the 
meridian of life, with ample means, a beautiful home, promising children, and 
universal respect and popularity, the tide turned. He took the wrong side in 
politics. He could not see things in the same light as his fellow-citizens. 
Those grievances against the King that so fired the wrath of great bodies of 
colonists, did not seem to him very serious ; did not justify rebellion from the 
government he had served. Perhaps he sympathized with his brother Samuel, 
an aggressive Boston Tory, and State's Attorney of Massachusetts. Perhaps 
his fastidious taste was offended by the loud talk and threats of his townsmen 
— for Windham Green was the very hot-bed of sedition and rebellion. 

And so all this noisy summer, while his neighbors and friends were making 
fiery speeches, and passing " red-hot" resolutions, and gathering sheep from 
every part of the large town to send for the relief of Boston, and making- 
inquisitorial raids upon suspected Tories in all parts of the State, our Colonel 
moped at home, silent and neutral, until roused by the forcible expulsion of a 
Boston visitor, a tradesman collecting debts. His remarks upon this incident 
are best reported in the following paper, quickly framed and circulated 
throughout the town for signatures : 

" Friends and Brethren. Ye are not unmindful that at our last meeting, we asserted our common 
rights and them undertook solemnly to support and maintain, in conjunction with the rest of the English 
settlers on this Continent, and among other things exprest our dissatisfaction of the cohort of Hutchinson's 
addressers, in their several addresses to him before his departure from Boston; whereby we undertook and 
engaged to and with each other — to entreat them on every occasion with the indignity they have justly 
deserved from us. And these our sentiments and resolutions we have published to the world. 

" Nevertheless, one Francis Green, one of that odious gang, presumed, the beginning of the present 
month, to take this town in his tour, when he was politely and in good reason made to know that his 
continuance was disagreeable to the sentiments of our inhabitants — that it became him speedily to depart, 
which was with difficulty effected. In consequence of which he has publicly advertised and promised a 
reward for information, &c, with no other purpose than to render this town odious in the eyes of our 

" This being thus transacte, one of our neighbors, viz : the Sheriff of the County, took it upon him to 
villify and reproach this our conduct at divers times and places, until yesterday morning, when in the pres- 
ence of five or six, some of whom were active in that matter and some not, ridiculing and condemning the 
conduct of Boston, the Colonies, and this town in particular, and Green's treatment, affirmed and declared 
that those acting in that matter and all others who countenanced them were a pack of damned scoundrels 
and rascals, and ought to be discarded and reproached by all mankind; that his brother should be here 
uninterruptedly if he pleased; that he would blow their damned brains out if they should attempt to trouble, 
remove, or quiet him, and many other disgraceful, threatening, and reproachful words. 

"This conduct has justly raised the indignation and resentments of the people in this part of the town, 
in consequence whereof, and in expectation of a visit from his ignominious brother, some forty or more 
assembled, seriously deliberated, and heard the evidence, and universally concluded that this man's con- 
duct ought to be properly resented ; have seriously covenanted and engaged to and with each other and all 
that shall join us, that we will not serve and oblige that offender with any such services and neighborly 


kindnesses; in a word, fully to disregard, not notice or have any farther connection with him or his, until 
he retracts from his above injurious sentiments and reproachful expressions (acts of humanity only ex- 
cepted) with settlement of past dealings. 

" In this number are included smiths, barbers, traders, millers, laborers. And of these our doings the 
writer was desired to make seasonable notice to our brethren in all other parts of the town, who we trust 
will adopt our measures and act with us in the same cause and take some particular method to bind and 
oblige themselves together and with us, remembering that any such matter helps our common interest. We 
have the pleasure to inform you that our agreement is very much approved by all denominations in this 
town, and that many not present last evening -have engaged with us, and that one instance has already 
happened wherein the gentleman was denied the setting a shoe on his horse to his no small" 
[inconvenience] . 

" We have also concluded that in case any more of these addressers should come into town and 
dare attempt to be publicly about, that our Committee of Correspondence be desired, First, to communicate 
the sentiments of the town, and request their speedy departure, and if not complied with, they have them 

" A large number being desired, we expect your attendance at the raising of our Liberty pole. 

"With prudence, unanimity, resolution, good conduct and good effect, let us act and conduct in this 
day of trouble. 

" We are gentlemen, your obedient servants, The Sons of Liberty in this town. 

" N. B. The gentleman to whom this is directed will beware of Tories and be careful to whom he 

The recipient of this particular copy did not choose to " communicate " to 
any one, but laid the paper carefully aside with this endorsement : " Humanity 
and my ideas of good policy do not permit me to join in the proposed treat- 
ment of Col. Fitch. E. D. Aug. I, 1774." 

But this forbearance was exceptional. The boycott took effect. Colonel 
Fitch and his household were, in great measure, shut out from society and de- 
prived of the common comforts of life. In 1776, he was deposed from the 
office of Sheriff. His lands were left untilled, his business ran to waste, his 
money depreciated in value. As his early friends passed away, Young America 
became more embittered against him, and he who had stood first in war, in 
peace, and in the popular favor, died in Canada, an ignominious exile. 



I heard a harp touched by the wind, 
Sound wavering notes, and purposeless, 

Like faltering rain on some lake's bosom cold ; 
As some great mind, inert, debased 
By sloth, unfashioned leaves the shapes 

Of thought which lie, half-hid, — like tarnished gold. 

But as I listened came along 

A wind of power that tried the strings 

Until forth rang a grander, purer tone. 
So God will stir the dormant soul 
To do His will. Then shall flash forth 

Heaven's truths, until that time to him unknown. 


II. EDWARDS AND BURR : A Series of Sorrows. 


The ancestors of Jonathan Edwards were eminently of a controversial turn 
of mind ; and this was perhaps true of the original Edwards who was said to be 
the son of a minister. William Edwards came to Hartford in 1639, with his 
mother and step-father, James Cole, a cooper, whom the mother had married 
in England ; they lived on Main street, near the South Green, running back to 
the street afterwards called Cole street. James Cole came to New England 
with his wife and her son William, and his daughter Abigail by a former wife. 
William Edwards married, about 1645, Agnes, widow of William Spencer, of 
Hartford, a man of affairs in Cambridge and Hartford, being deputy several 
times. William Edwards was made freeman in 1658, chimney-viewer in 1668, 
and died before 1672. 

His son, Richard Edwards, was born May, 1647, an d married Nov. 19, 
1667, Elizabeth, daughter of William Tuttle, of New Haven, from whom he was 
divorced in 1691 ; he married second, about 1692, Mary, daughter of Lieut. - 
Col. John Talcott, of Hartford. He was an attorney-at-law and a very prom- 
inent man in his day. He died April 20, 1718; his widow, Mary, died April 
19, 1723. His eldest son, Rev. Timothy Edwards, of East Windsor, was the 
father of the great theologian, Jonathan Edwards the elder, and through him, 
Richard Edwards was the ancestor of many distinguished men, — scholars, 
divines, statesmen. He was the ancestor of Governor Henry W. Edwards, 
Judge Ogden Edwards, of New York, Judge Pierpont Edwards, of Connecticut, 
Vice-President Aaron Burr, and others distinguished in law and theology. 

In May, 1708, the office of attorney-at-law seems first to have been 
authorized by law in Hartford. Richard Edwards was admitted by the County 
Court, in September of that year, and by the Court of Assistants in October, 
to practice law. He was about sixty years old at that time ; his grandson, the 
elder Jonathan Edwards, being then but five years old. When, in 1 691, he had 
petitioned for a divorce from his wife, he had prayed that he might " have 
relief therein, if the law of God or man will afford it;" and "for a committee of 
able divines upon this charge." Upon a report submitted by certain divines, 
the General Court granted him a favorable decree. He had acted as an 
attorney as early as 1684, and in 1702-3, he had argued a fugitive slave case 
against Saltonstall. He was probably the first Queen's Attorney, appointed as 
such in April, 1705, the office having first been created in May, 1704. The 
act provided that there should be " in every countie, a sober, discreet and 
religious person, appointed by the County Courts, to be Atturney for the 
Queen ; to prosecute and implead in the lawe all criminall offenders, and to doe 
all other things necessary or convenient, as an Atturney, to suppress vice and 
immoralitie." He held the office until 171 2 or 171 3, perhaps until 171 7. At 
about the latter date, John Read of Stratford began to hold the office. 

Timothy Edwards, being an only son* of a rich father, was given a very 

Note. (*0nly son of the first wife. See Notes and Queries.) 


liberal education for those early times, and improved it to such a degree that 
when he graduated in 1 69 1, at Harvard College, he was given the degree of A. 
B. in the forenoon, and of A. M. in the afternoon, the first student to bear away 
from those classic shades this dual distinction on one and the same day. He 
was, however, placed last on the list in a class of eight, perhaps on account of 
the standing and social prestige of his family. At that time, and for eighty 
years afterwards it was the custom to give the names in the ratio of social 
distinction of the parents ; it was finally changed to the alphabetical order main- 
tained to the present day. If, in social rank his class-mates were his superiors, 
surely they were inferior in scholarship, if the above is an indication. 

He began his ministrations as a candidate, in East Windsor Society, in 
Nov. 1694, at the age of twenty-five. He came with his wife, Nov. 14, just 
eight days after their marriage, which was ample time to journey from 
Northampton, and to visit his sisters in Hartford. There he remained during a 
ministry of sixty-three years, which was most fruitful and satisfactory. He was 
formally ordained in 1698, and his ordination was followed by a ball in honor 
of the event, showing that the plain living and staid manners of that day were 
not so Puritanical as is generally supposed. Mr. Edwards and Mr. Warham 
mingled freely among their people, both being farmers also, and interested with 
them in their every-day dealings as well as diversions and amusements, without 
in the least detracting from the dignity of their sacred office. 

A recent writer, in treating of the ministrations of the elder Edwards, 
(Timothy,) "who with such grace and simple courtesy and fervent zeal so 
boldly reasoned for the truth of God," says of his ethical status : 

" Those who are wont to cavil and draw unfavorable comparisons between the old and new school 
theologians, will seek in vain for any cause of censure in the writings of Timothy Edwards. He preached 
no hell other than that which the Bible depicted, and drew no graphic picture of immortality that belied the 
precious truths of Holy Writ. Eminently a godly man, he knew of no better way to forward the cause and 
interests of his divine Lord than to preach the truth in Christ and lie not. ' The truth, the life, the way,' 
was the burden of his ministry. No sweeping words of condemnation fell on those who had no 'light;' no 
tesselated pave of ' infants skulls ' floored the infernal vault for those who were not among the elect. But 
for the soul ' continued in sin y he preached naught save an eternal death. The crucial test of the 
Edwardean theology is found in the oft-repeated words : ' You who have sinned against your light.' This 
was the tenor of that ministry under which the child, Jonathan, sat. There he drank deep of unmixed 
truth, and fed on holy things. There that subtle intellect found its natural sustenance and finally stepped 
out in the richness of God-like beauty and the plentitude of a royal power to combat the things of 

Jonathan Edwards the elder, was born in East Windsor, Conn., Oct. 5, 
1703, and died at Princeton, N. J., March 22, 1758, and is regarded as the 
greatest of American theologians and metaphysicians, at least of the last cen- 
tury; the author of the famous essay on "The Freedom of the Will," and the 
hardly less famous " Treatise on Religious Affections." His literary work was 
mostly done at Northampton, and Stockbridge, Mass. He entered Yale in his 
thirteenth year, and from that time was almost continually away from home. 

Dr. Emmons once said that " the senior Edwards (Timothy) had more 
reason than his son, but the son was a better reasoner than his father." That 
he was an acute reasoner, one endowed with greater mental acumen than the 
majority of men, anyone can clearly prove by merely dipping into his writings. 
In all his works, he regards self-love and natural appetite as the absolute 
masters of the human heart previous to regeneration, and against these he 
waged a ceaseless warfare. Whether we of to-day agree with, or follow him, we 
cannot gainsay his great ability as a theologian and thinker. He came well by 
his controversial ability through his father and grand-father, and perhaps the 
original William, though a cooper and merchant, may have been a man of solid 
parts and sense. 


The history of the unhappy controversy which arose between the people 
of Northampton and their pastor, which resulted in the dismission of the latter, 
is well known. It stayed the plague-spot which was spreading over our land. 
It formed a crisis in the history of our churches. President Edwards 
undoubtedly felt his principles to be important, because true, and he well 
counted the cost before he announced his change of sentiment and his opposi- 
tion to the prevailing practice and belief. But he could hardly have foreseen 
the extent and the bitterness of the opposition which he was to encounter. 
But, " truth is mighty and will prevail." The clouds passed away. The good 
seed sown in the storm and scattered by the whirlwind, sprung up. The name 
of Edwards is revered where he was bitterly opposed. His principles are 
adopted by that church which refused his ministrations ; and strangers of other 
lands are led by the children of those who drove him from their presence to 
see the trees which he planted and the spot where he dwelt. 

In all the trials of her husband, Mrs. Edwards participated ; and her 
woman's heart might feel more acutely the desolation of leaving the early home 
of her married life, one of the most beautiful spots which this world can boast, 
for a frontier settlement ; a reduced salary and a large family would not lighten 
her cares and trials. But we hear of no complaints. The song of praise arose 
in her dwelling. Her own industry and economy were doubly taxed ; the 
accomplishments of her daughters were made to contribute to the common 
stock, and friends from other lands remembered them. 

Another stroke followed, and the hearts of the parents were made to bleed 
for their widowed child, while as Christians they mourned the untimely death of 
President Burr, of Princeton. Then came the call to Edwards to take the place 
at Princeton, lately vacated by his promising son-in-law ; Mrs. Edwards might 
have rejoiced, not only in the prospect of being restored to more congenial 
society, but in the sweet hope of alleviating by her presence and tenderness the 
sorrow of her bereaved daughter. The parting benediction of Edwards as he 
left to assume his new duties was touching and pathetic in the extreme, as 
bestowed upon his family: " I commit you to God; I doubt not if He will take 
a fatherly care of us if we remember Him." 

Then followed his sudden death, one stroke of sorrow and affliction falling 
fast upon another. But the wife's constancy, the reality of her faith, her resig- 
nation and submission to the Divine will, was shown in a few lines which still 
remain, addressed to her daughter, Mrs. Burr, in this trying hour. Still another 
stroke followed in the death of this daughter, Mrs. Burr, — a woman worthy of 
her parents, uniting great personal beauty, feminine grace and loveliness, to 
deep piety and a strong mind. Mrs. Edwards left her home to take charge of 
her orphaned grand-children, and to be able to often visit the grave of her hus- 
band, at Princeton, some few months after the death of Mrs. Burr. 

She did not reach Princeton. She died at Philadelphia, near enough to 
the grave of her husband to secure a place by his side. Had she been spared 
to watch over these children, very different might have been the character and 
the influence of one who inherited the talents but not the principles of his 
ancestors ; and whose name, perpetuated as it must be in the annals of his 
country, will descend darkly and sadly to future generations. 

There was a time of religious interest, at Princeton College, while Aaron 
Burr was a student, when he was almost persuaded to be a Christian. There 
was a particular day on which his choice seemed balancing between "I will" 
and " I will not." Some influence, some dissuasive speech perhaps, turned 
him away from the heavenly visitant, and he said, " I will not," and from what 
we know of his last hours, the gulf widened until the end, in darkness/ 


Esther Edwards, third daughter of Jonathan Edwards, married, June 29, 
1752, Rev. Aaron Burr, of Fairfield, Conn., son of Daniel and Elizabeth Burr. 
He was one of a family of ten children. His father, Daniel Burr, was son of 
John or Jehu Burr, who married Mary, daughter of that veteran colonizer of 
many places, Andrew Ward. Daniel's grandfather, was Jehu Burr the first, a 
carpenter, who came with Winthrop -in 1630, settled first at Roxbury, thence 
removed to Fairfield, Conn., and was representative there to the General Court, 
1 64 1 -5. The Burr ancestry was not remarkable, like the Edwards, except for 
sturdy common sense, administrative abilities, and indomitable will power; 
these characteristics were transmitted in full measure to Aaron Burr the 
second, and are common to the present day. 

Rev. Aaron Burr preached his first sermon in Greenfield, Conn., removed 
to Hanover, Morris Co., N. J., then as now merely a rural hamlet; but his tal- 
ents soon promoted him to be the pastor of the First Presbyterian church in 
Newark, where he was ordained in 1739. In 1748 he was elected President of 
the College of New Jersey, then located at Newark, * and afterwards removed to 
Princeton. He succeeded Jonathan' Dickinson, the first President. He died of 
nervous fever, in September, 1757; and within fourteen months of his death, 
four other members of the Edwards family had passed away ; Rev. Timothy, 
died January, 1758; Rev. Jonathan, in March, and sixteen days later Mrs. 
Burr ; while Mrs. Jonathan Edwards followed her daughter seven months later. 

Rev. Aaron Burr left only two children, Sarah, three years of age, and 
Aaron, born Feb. 6, 1756, only twenty months of age; the mother dying 
soon after, left the children early orphaned, and they were placed under the 
stern and rigid discipline of their maternal uncle, Timothy Edwards, the eldest 
son of Jonathan, who had also assumed the care of his younger brother, Pier- 
pont Edwards, born 1750, only six years older than Aaron Burr. It is said 
that much of the wildness of little Aaron was due to this Pierpont, but it was, 
we think, largely due to the perversity of the lad himself and the puritanical 
tenets of his uncle Timothy, as several anecdotes of his boyhood will amply 

Sarah Burr, sister of Aaron, was, with himself, placed under a private 
tutor, Tapping Reeve, while they resided in their Uncle Timothy's family, at 
Elizabethtown, New Jersey. Tapping Reeve in due time married Sarah Burr, 
and was as remarkable a man in his own way, as Aaron Burr. He became 
Chief Justice of the Superior Court of Connecticut, and was founder of the 
celebrated law school at Litchfield, Conn., where he resided for over fifty years. 
Lyman Beecher was pastor of the church at Litchfield, part of this time, and 
the two families became quite intimate. Harriet Beecher Stowe writes, " How 
well I remember Judge Reeve's house, wide, roomy, cheerful ; it used to be the 
Eden of our imagination ; I remember the great old-fashioned garden with 
broad alleys set with all sorts of stately bunches of flowers. It used to be my 
reward when I was good, to spend a Saturday afternoon there, and walk up and 
down among the flowers and pick currants off the bushes." While her father 
bears this tribute to his co-laborer. ".Oh, what a man he was ! When I get to 
Heaven and meet him there, what a shaking of hands there will be ! " Dr. 
Samuel Hopkins, also related to the Edwards family, says of Judge Reeve, 

* " Mr. Dickinson [Rev. Jonathan] had long felt the necessity of a Collegiate Institution, more accessible than Harvard or 
Yale, for the colonies this side of New England. > The course pursued by the authorities of Yale College in denying to his 
young friend, David Brainard, his degree, on account of a slight irregularity, and for whom he and Burr [Rev. Aaron] had 
both interceded in vain, determined him to establish, if possible, a College in New Jersey."— Hatfield 's History of Elizabeth, 
N- 7-, P- 349- The charter was granted 22, Oct., 1746 to Messrs Jonathan Dickinson, John Pierson, Eben. Pemberton and 
Aaron Burr, ministers. It was opened April 20, 1747; but President Dickinson died Oct. 7, 1747 * * * * The grammar 
school was started in Elizabethtown, 1766, by Tapping Reeve, and Eben. Pemberton, Jun. Mr. Reeve was the son of Rev. 
Abner Reeve, and was born at Fire Place, Brookhaven, L. I. Oct. 17, 1744. — Ibid. 


" He was altogether an admirable man, of a purity, sincerity, and guilelessness 
of heart such as I have seen in but few men of this world." Mrs. Reeve was 
an invalid and confined to her bed for many years. A son and grandson 
completed this line, the latter dying while in Yale College, at the age of twenty. 

Aaron Burr lived in his uncle Timothy's family until he went to college, 
at Princeton, at the age of twelve. When about four years of age he ran away, 
on account of some misunderstanding with his preceptor, Mr. Reeve, and 
was not found until after the third or fourth day. The family government of 
Mr. Edwards was strict and severe, but in the case of Aaron Burr, and Pierpont 
Edwards, the " rod was spared," as he is quoted as having said. A late com- 
piler facetiously says it was however, no "maple sugar" government, for 
Aaron himself relates that one fine afternoon in July, he was in a cherry tree in 
his uncle's garden, when he observed coming up the walk an elderly lady, a 
guest of the house, wearing a silk dress, then a decided luxury. The prim 
behavior and severe morality of the old lady had disgusted the boy somewhat, 
and he began pelting her with cherries from his concealment; but he was 
caught in the act, and his bad behavior reported to his uncle. Aaron was then in 
his eighth year. He was summoned to the study and treated to a severe 
Puritanical lecture, then a fervent prayer for his reformation. But from the 
beginning the boy knew well that it presaged a castigation and could tell from 
the length and severity of the exhortation and prayer how severe would be the 
punishment; and as Burr expressed it, "he licked me like a sack." 

At the age of ten he wanted to run away to sea, came to New York, and 
entered himself as a cabin-boy on a vessel, whither his uncle followed him, and 
he took refuge at the mast-head, from which coign of vantage he would not be 
dislodged until his uncle had capitulated and surrendered under a truce of 
peace. When eleven he was prepared for Princeton, but was not permitted to 
enter until the next year. He graduated with honor at the age of sixteen. It 
is related that while in college he won a small sum of money at his first game 
of billiards, and was so mortified that he never again played at any game of 
chance. About the time he left college, being uneasy in his mind on the 
subject of religion, he visited Rev. Dr. Bellamy, of Bethlehem, Conn., and with 
him pursued a course of religious study and conversation, from the autumn of 
1 773 to the spring of 1774. His conclusions on certain Calvinistic points 
were certainly at variance with those of his preceptor, and he henceforth 
avoided all religious disputation. 

The beginning of the Revolutionary war led him to volunteer his services, 
like another Byron. In June, 1775, being a little more than nineteen years of 
age, he left Elizabethtown for Cambridge, and attached himself to the Arnold 
expedition to Quebec. At Newburyport, when the expedition sailed, he found 
a message from his uncle Edwards ordering his return. The two men delivering 
the order seemed disposed to enforce it, but were met by so plucky and 
determined resistance on the part of little Burr that he was allowed to proceed, 
and he afterwards speedily distinguished himself, sharing all the toils and priva- 
tions of that arduous campaign. When Gen. Montgomery fell, on the Heights 
of Abraham, Burr was within six feet of him, and attempted to carry his body 
from the battle-field ; a heavy snow-storm had fallen, and the British troops 
were advancing toward the dead commander, when Burr shouldered and carried 
the body for some distance, up to his knees in the snow, until he was compelled 
to drop it and escape with his life. 



While attending the academy at S , a young man by the name of 

Philip Ripley was one of my classmates. Soon after our acquaintance began we 
became the most intimate of friends. He was naturally reserved and so was I, 
neither of us mixing more than was necessary with our fellows, but, somehow, 
each of us found the other's society so congenial that we were together most of 
the time. I do not think we had been acquainted more than three weeks when 
he knew my secrets and I, his. 

He was a remarkable youth. In general endowment there was not his 
equal in the school. He was as good in one study as another, and seemed to 
learn by a sort of intuition. When I first knew him I felt assured of his future 
eminence, but I soon detected elements of weakness in his character which 
would render marked achievement improbable. Though royal gifts were his, 
I soon perceived that he had no definite purpose, and that he was the most 
easily discouraged person I had ever known. I came to the conclusion that he 
would make a failure of life and that, if ever a great sorrow overtook him, 
he would be broken like a reed. 

Many were the hours we spent together that year, and happy ones, too. 
Many were the nights we talked until the crowing cocks admonished that 
another day was knocking for admission at the doors of the east. There were 
few subjects which we did not confidently grapple with, and summarily dis- 
pose of. It was a treat to hear Philip talk, his memory was such a teeming 
treasury, and he had such an original way of expressing himself. I seem to see 
him now, his face lighting up, and the far-away look coming to his large, blue 
eyes, as he gave eloquent utterance to some thought. 

One night our conversation turned upon the universality of superstition, 
when he told me that from his childhood he had had the belief that there was 
an occult analogy between the day of his birth, the day of the most important 
event of his life, and the day of his death ; and that from the figures of the first 
two dates the figures of the last date might be worked out, if the method could 
be discovered. 

He said this with such calmness of conviction that I was deeply impressed, 
although it appealed to my sense of the ridiculous. I asked him if he knew the 
date of the most important event of his life. He answered that he did not 
think he had reached it. Regarding the occult analogy between the days, I 
asked him if he knew anything about the date of his birth, other than the simple 
fact of its position in a certain month of a certain year, by which he could 
establish the analogy when the date of the most important event should come. 
He answered that his mother had told him that the day of his birth — 
May 13, 1857 — was a cold, misty one, and that what had impressed her the 
most about the day was the weird appearance of the dark-green foliage of the 
trees in the white fog. He further answered that he had made inquiry of an old 
man, who was a great observer of the weather, ahd had kept a journal of the 
aspects of the days for nearly forty years, and he had substantiated his mother's 
statement of there having been a fog, only adding that towards night of that day 


— May 13, 1857 — the weather had cleared away, and the sky became stormy, 
and brief copious showers had succeeded — as if the low hung clouds were 
huge sponges pressed at intervals by some elemental hand. 

Nothing further was said upon the subject until the last day of our school 
life. As we parted — alas! never to meet again — I said: u Old fellow, if you 
get any new developments in the date line, do not fail to let me know in your 
letters." " I will let you know. Good-bye." These were his last words to me. 
As he said them, he shut the car-door behind him. A moment more and the 
train had turned a corner out of sight. 

And so the years passed. I received letters from Philip now and then, 
telling me of his plans. He usually had a fresh stock in each letter. I gleaned, 
in substance, that, despite his vacillation, he had been admitted to the bar, and 

had opened an office in the growing town of G . I had not expected even 

that much of him. 

One day, in the fifth year since we parted, he wrote me a letter. It was 
shorter than any I had ever received from him, and well nigh illegible. I repro- 
duce it (with the exception of three sentences.) Philip is dead, and I do not 
hesitate in making it public. It reads very strange. I should have deemed 
him insane, but for the odd belief I knew he held. 

C , May 21, 1880. 

My Dear Arthur : 

I have lived the most important day of my life — May 20, 1880 : and so have date No. 2. I have 
lived the most important day of my life, for all of life after that day must be totally unlike all of life before 
it. Life was bright Life is forever more dark. * * * We parted at the midnight hour with mingling 
tears. But, mark you as 1 sobbed a good-bye, though convulsed with emotion, my eyes fell upon the moon- 
lit night; a white fog had settled over the silent trees, and their dark green foliage had the same weird 
look that I know it must have had on the day of my birth. Later, when, sleepless, I paced my chamber, 
I heard the rain fall with copious, sudden dashes, and, going to the window, the fog had cleared, the sky 
become stormy and low hanging clouds seemed like huge sponges pressed at intervals by some elemental 
hand. Ah, do you not see now that there is an occult analogy between the date of my birth and the date 
of the most important event of my life ? As to the method by which the date of my death may be worked 
out from the date of my birth and the date of the most important event of my life, I shall now make it the 
sole object of my remaining days to rind it, as I am through chasing the phantoms other men pursue. I 
know that I shall die in May, for no other month of the whole year does the foliage have such a weird 
appearance in a fog, and the rain fall as it fell that desolate night. I am sure that the year of my death 
cannot be far distant. "Yours de profundis, 

" Philip Ripley." 

I answered the letter immediately. I gave Philip the best advice of which 
I was capable. The drift of my two pages of foolscap may be briefly stated : 
I made plain to him the foolishness of allowing so promising a life as his to be 
blighted by any adversity. I appealed to him metaphysically. I told him that 
if he would analyze his passion, he would find that he had confounded the 
specter evoked by his soul's thirst for the unearthly beautiful with some robust 
and very mortal country maid. 

I expected an answer soon, but none came. It was not long before the 
clock had ticked off one, two, and three years, and still there was no answer. I 
had often wondered what had become of my old friend ; but, as he had not 
written I concluded that I could get along without him as long as he could 
without me. 

Imagine my surprise — May 27, 1883 — to receive a dispatch to the effect 
that Philip could not live, and that he wished to see me before he died. He 
was one hundred and eighty miles distant, and the connections were such that 
I could not reach him before early the next morning, but I made preparations 
to go. At 11 A. M., I was moving westward as fast as the iron horse would 
take me. About 2 P. M., I observed a dense fog settling over the dark-green 
foliage of the trees. Ah, thought I, my trip is in vain ! I shall never see 
Philip alive. He will die to-day. Later in the afternoon the fog cleared, away, 


the sky became stormy, and the rain fell in copious, sudden dashes, as if the 
low-hung clouds were huge sponges pressed at intervals by some elemental 
hand. Ah, thought I, " poor fellow, thou wast right. The occult analogy is 
complete. This is thy dying day, and thou hast already begun thy eternal sleep." 

I reached my destination at 5 A. M. It was as I had expected, Philip was 
dead. He had died the day before. I was at the funeral and remained with 
the bereaved mother two days thereafter. She told me her son's history since 
we left school, of the unfortunate most important event of his life, of his 
shattered hopes and slow but sure decline, — all to the minutest detail. He had 
requested her to give me a certain blank book. This was partly full of figures, 
evidently made in the endeavor to work out the day of his death from the date 
of his birth and the date of the most important event of his life. As his belief 
in the occult analogy had proved a correct one, as his mother asserted that for 
three days previous to his death he had assured her that he would die on the 
day he did, as he wished to see me before he died, and as he left me the book 
of calculations, I shall always feel that he had found the method he had written 
me he would seek. 

I have been more superstitious since my experience with Philip Ripley and 
his three dates. 




When I read of Algol in the far heavens 

Algol, the demon star, him of the strangely varying beam, 

How he passes upon his long journey, yet not alone ; 

How a dark comrade evermore attends him — 

A dead orb — a sun with neither light nor heat: 

Then I thought of the bright-shining faith of the heart of man, 

How it, too, passes through mysterious spaces ; 

How it moves upon its solemn course, yet not alone ; 

How by ties more unyielding than those of gravity 

It is fatally linked with doubt. 


Sleep, little babe, upon thy mother's breast ; 
Let the white curtains of thy lids unroll 
O'er the blue windows of thy stainless soul ; 

Sleep, little babe, thou can'st not always rest. 

The little wren must weave itself a nest, 
The little chipmunk learn to carve its hole, 
The little seed be severed from the bole, 

And thou must make thy way — for it is best. 

Then sleep, my blessed baby, whilst thou can ; 

Yon tireless clock is ticking thee a man, 

Soon will the trumpet to the battle call ; 

Oh, in that strife which comes to each and all, 

Where but the weak and the unworthy fall, 

Be strong as Sampson, and as brave as Saul. 

The Easter days, of light and warmth and splendor 

Come slowly toiling up the wintry steep ; 
Old Winter wakes to feign a glad surrender, 

Only to lapse into profounder sleep. 
The snow-clad boughs beneath their burden quiver, 

And droop, despairing, as with weight of woe ; 
The blustrous winds bewailing, moan and shiver, 

And sport among the falling flakes of snow. 
The sun is veiled behind the clouds, full-laden, — 

No struggling beams their ragged rifts adorn ; 
The gentle Spring, a coy and dainty maiden, 

Still lingers in old Winter's lap, forlorn. 
How long will Nature wear her mantle dreary, 

Enshrouding her fair face from mortal ken? 
How soon will April flowers, bright and cheer}-, 

Awaken from their winter sleep again? 
We long for all the glories and the flowers 

That crown our coming Easter festival : 
Are there no thorns in this great world of ours — 

And thornless roses only, crowning all ! 
Must Life be only valued as a wonder — 

Illusion fond, to which our fancy clings? 
Are there no sober moods wherein to ponder 

The lessons that the Lenten season brings? 
Are there no deeds, to others bringing gladness, 

In which our griefs can find a glad surcease? 
Remember that our lives are filled with sadness — 

Echoes of sorrows of the Prince of Peace. 
Then let us rest, no discontent assuming, 

Until the veil of death in twain is torn; 
While Easter blossoms in our hearts are blooming : 

Pair tokens of the Resurrection morn. 


l if* ■; \,^<l 0\*\ 







a i 

H f 



Always a conservative town was Suffield, and is now for that matter. So 
much so that its people actually bought the land it occupies of the Indians ; 
and as a result not a person was killed within its limits during all the Indian 
wars that brought so much misery to the first settlers of New England. To be 
sure the price was not very large, being only thirty pounds ; but as few if any 
of the Indians lived here, only using it for hunting ground, they were pleased 
with their bargain. 

At first this territory, included in Springfield, was supposed to be within 
the Connecticut Colony, and Deputies were sent to its General Court. Later 
the people of Springfield concluded they were in Massachusetts, and applied to 
its General Court for protection. And still later, after Southfield (Suffield) had 
become separated from Springfield, its people petitioned for admission to the 
Connecticut Colony, which was granted in 1749. 

The boundary between the Colonies was a subject of continued and 
bitter contention for many years, and was not finally settled until the adjust- 
ment of 1803. Then a tract of about two miles square was added to Suffield 
on the west. Windsor claimed as its northern boundary Stony River, and a 
bitter quarrel was kept up until 171 3. There was no contention on the east 
for it was bounded by the Great River, nor on the west for it was an unbroken 
wilderness. The bounds are, north, by the State Line ; east, by the River ; 
south, by Windsor Locks, East Granby and Granby ; west, by Granby and 

The fact that it was heavily timbered, with little intervale or meadow land, 
caused it to be settled somewhat later than the neighboring towns on the 
north or south. It was "hard to winne." In 1660 the General Court of 

1 66 


Massachusetts granted a tract seven miles square to make a plantation called 
Stony River, situated on both sides of the " Quonnecticut." It is probable that a 
settlement was attempted by the Harmons in 1664, but it was soon abandoned, 
and none of the original grantees ever became actual settlers of the town, so 
far as known. In 1670, the General" Court made a grant of land six miles 
square on the west side of the river for a town. In the settlement of the town 

Major Pynchon seems 
to have been the mas- 
ter spirit, though he 
- lived in Springfield. 

He purchased the land 
of the Indians, was the 
most influential of the 
committee of " allot- 
ments," built the first 
saw-mill and grist-mill, 
erected the first frame 
house, and was the 
constant adviser of the 
settlers in affairs tem- 
poral and ecclesiastical. 
To his account-book 
and letters, and so 
much of the "Proprie- 
tors " book as he wrote, 
town hall. we are indebted for 

the most accurate information we have of the customs and home life of the 
settlers ; the town, county and state records being only skeletons. 

In 1670 a beginning of settlement was made by five Proprietors, to whom 
allotments of land had been made. In 1671 there were four allotments. In 
1672, five. In 1673, one. In 1674, twenty-one. These allotments averaged 
about fifty acres each. The basis was for one hundred families. As there 
were three roads, or rather " trails," the 
settlements were made on them. The 
first led from Windsor to Northampton 
through Remington street and Zion's 
Hill. Here were the first allotments. 
The second trail led from the Old 
Factory road to the Springfield road 
(now " Crooked Lane"), through High 
Street. The third trail was along the 
ridge next the river, now East Street. 
In the allotments were each of several 
parcels : timber for homestead, meadow 
and swamp-land, and sometimes a long 
distance apart. There was another trail 
leading from Poquonock to Westfield through West Suffield by way of the 
" Rattley road." 

Of course one of the conditions of the charter was the support of a 
Christian minister and a blacksmith. Mr. John Younglove came as pastor in 
1679, but there is no record of his ordination. The first church building was 
erected in 1680, very near what is now the intersection of the West Suffield 
road and High Street. Mr. Younglove was succeeded by the Rev. Benjamin 





Ruggles, in 1695, and he in turn by the Rev. Ebenezer Devotion, in 17 10. 
These were the distinctive " town ministers. " Their salary was sixty pounds a 
year, mostly in provisions, etc. The latter had a hard time with his discontented 
brethren. The 
Separatists kept up 
a contention, which 
in 1750 resulted in 
the establishment of 
the Baptist church 
on Zion's hill, the 
parent of all the 
Baptist churches in 
this vicinity, Joseph 
Hastyngs acting as 
pastor. In 1740 the 
Second Ecclesiasti- 
cal Society (West 
S u f f i e 1 d ) was 
formed. Its house 
of worship was built 
in 1743. The first 
pastor was Rev. 
John Graham. The 

Congregational Church in 
trial," a characteristic incident took place. 


Ebenezer Gay, D. D., became pastor of the First 
1 741. When he first preached for the people "on 
He was a devout man, highly edu- 
cated and eloquent. But the 
kindly gossip of the day 
thought him too thin in 
stature, his legs too short and 
out of plumb. The Sunday 
after this came to the Doctor's 
ears, he preached a sermon 
on this text; " He taketh not 
pleasure in the legs of a man." 
The sermon was a success. 
He was pastor until 1793, 
when he was succeeded by his 
son. Father and son held the 
pastorate eighty-four years. 

The old '•Manse" was 
built in 1743, and is yet in 
good preservation. It is situ- 
ated north of the Second 
Baptist church. Back of it 
stretched the " Demense " 
toward the river. In front, 
the highway, or Common, was 
some thirty rods wide. The 
Second Baptist church was 
constituted in 1805. The first 
congregational church. pastor was the Rev. Caleb 

Green.f|The Protestant Episcopal church was organized in 1865 and the Rev. 

Augustus Jackson was elected pastor. The Methodist Episcopal church was 



organized in 1833 and Rev. Charles Chittenden was first stationed here. The 
first Roman Catholic service was held in this town in 1882. The above is the 
list of all the regularly organized churches in the town. There is of course the 
usual variety of unorganized " isms." 

It is a loyal old town, as the Resolutions of 1774 testify, as well as its sub- 
sequent action 
in sending its 
sons to the 

wars. At J 

scarcely a § 

day's notice it I 

started two §4 

companies, all 
told, one hun- 
d red and 
eleven men, at 
the giving of 
the Lexington 
alarm. For- 
tunately, no 
doubt, for the 
British, that 
speck o f war 
was over be- 
fore they had episcopal church. 

time to reach Lexington. The town cared liberally for the widows and orphans 
of the patriot soldiers, and when independence was gained, welcomed home 
the surviving heroes with such heartiness as compensated for much of the hard- 
ship undergone. The town was well represented in the war of 1812 and the 


Mexican war. One of its great jollifications was the welcoming home of a 
Suffield boy who had gone to the latter war a private and returned a Major by 
brevet. The other memorable celebrations of this generation have been the 



Ruggles' one hundred and fiftieth anniversary, in 1858, the Bi-Centenial in 
1870, and the dedication of the Soldiers' Monument in 1888. On each of these 
occasions nature favored the people with copious rains. Suffield raised more 


than its full quota for the war of the Rebellion, and contributed nearly seventy 
thousand (dollars besides. 

In its earliest 
history and up to 
the end of the first 
quarter of the pre- 
sent century the 
town was noted 
for its manufacto- 
ries. The smelt- 
ing of " bog iron" 
and the making of 
agricultural imple- 
ments was quite 
extensively carried 
on. The second 
cotton manufac- 
tory erected in the 
United States was 
built here by 
Richard Crosby 
in 1795. A full- 
ing mill was set 
up in 1796, and 
there were several 
carding mills. The town barely escaped bein 


a great manufacturing center, 



for there is no better water privilege in New England than the Connecticut 
river presents at its rapids east of the town. At this time a newspaper, " The 
Impartial Herald," was published in town, and several books were printed. 
There was a law school under the direction of Gideon Granger, and a number 
of young men were fitted for admission to the bar. 

Slavery was one of the institutions of the State until abolished by the Act 
of 1788. There were quite a number of slaves in this town, but neither slavery 
nor the slave were ever very popular here. There was at one time a consider- 
able trade with the West Indies, the vessels being loaded at the foot of the falls. 
Previous to the outbreak of the Civil war, hundreds of men were employed in 
the manufacture of cigars, and millions were shipped to California by way of 
Cape Horn. This industry has diminished until scarce fifty men are employed 
in the town. 

Very soon after the settlement of the plantation the school master was sent 
for, in the person of Anthony Aus- 
tin. He was a very satisfactory : ^%* i f W ^ * \ * "^^H 
teacher, and town clerk for many 
years. Much attention has always 
been paid to the matter of education. 
There is to-day an excellent system 
of schools. In 1833 the Connecti- 
cut Literary Institution was estab- 
lished. It has generally held a high 
rank among institutions for secondary 
instruction. It counts its graduates 
by the thousand, and numbers among 
them some of the ablest men in the 
country. It has ample buildings for 
dormitories, class rooms, lecture 
rooms, laboratories, cabinets, and 
gymnasium, with a farm of thirty 
acres. The present endowment 
exceeds one hundred thousand 
dollars. So the people of the town 
enjoy rare educational privileges. 
The first school house was erected 
on the " Green," southeast of the 
Congregational church. It was 
moved to the site of the present town hall and was used jointly by the town and 
school district. Previous to this the town meetings were held in the churches, 
usually at the center, occasionally at West Suffield, or on the "Hill." In the 
reaction against "Idolatry" the descendants of the Puritans did not especially 
reverence wood, brick, or stone, and even if a building was principally used for 
religious meetings, it did not prevent its use for almost any other decent pur- 
pose. When the day appointed for training the Militia proved too inclement, 
they made use of the meeting-house. In i860 the town hall and school house 
were burned, and before the close of the next year the present commodious 
building was built, and used in common by the town and school district until 
1890, when the district erected a more suitable school house on Bridge street. 

The old wooden bridge which unites Suffield and Enfield was built in 
1832, from the proceeds of a lottery. It is an odd looking, irregular, pokish 
structure, seeming to invite always a contest with the wind or fire. It was then 
thought to be a marvelous example of what the science of civil engineering 
could do. 



The wide street in the center was early used as a "Common" pasture 
ground. It was an excellent place to dig gravel, and the people drove across 
it at will until it became unsightly enough. But in 1859 it was laid out as a 
park and graded. It was divided into three parts, each bordered with trees. It 
is one of the most 
beautiful features of 
the town, or of any 
town in the state 
for that matter. 

The Great 
Island, or Terry's 
Island, as it is now 
more often called, 
is one of the most 
charming places in 
the town. For a 
description of it the 
reader is referred 
to an exceedingly 
interesting mono- 
graph written by 
the Hon. Hezekiah L 

S. Sheldon. It has THE 0LD MANSE - 

been claimed by both Suffield and Enfield with the preponderence of evidence 
in favor of Suffield. It lies at the foot of the rapids. The mass of the river 
flows on the east side, but the water on the west is so deep that access can 
seldom be had except by ferry. Its sides are abrupt, but on the top there are 

more than a hun- 
r dred acres of land 

well wooded, and a 
part of it under cul- 
tivation. It is the 
"one gem" set in 
the waters of the 

The town has 
an excellent Free 
Public Library which 
is liberally patron- 
ized by the people. 
It was founded in 
1884, and in 1894 
was reorganized 
under the Library 
Act of 1893. Con- 
nected with it is a 
well equipped read- 
ing room, which is 
also open every day and evening. The first license for the sale of spirituous 
liquors was issued in 1839. Now the burden seems to be that no such 
place ought to be licensed. Then the burden was that the sale ought not to 
be restricted. At the beginning of the century there were a dozen or more 
taverns in the town, and at that time an inn without a bar would have been 





a misnomer. It was not even beyond the dignity of the minister to join a 
parishioner in "a mug of flip" at a public house. Our ancestors had good 
stomachs for " meat, vegitables, and Rhum." 

The people so violently opposed the building of the Hartford and Spring- 
field Railroad through the town, that much to the regret of the directors of the 
road, they felt obliged to cross the river below the town. It is unnecessary to 
say that the citizens of the town have " never been sorry but once." They have 
since donated to that road twenty-five thousand dollars in cash, and nearly 
as much more in " right of way " to build an exasperating branch of four miles. 

The town has an agricultural park, and a good one, belonging to a pros- 
perous society ; a 


Masonic lodge; 
an order of 
American Me- 
chanics ; a nation- 
al bank ; a savings 
bank; a poor 
house and farm 
which is better 
than most people 
live in ; a Mutual 
Fire Insurance 
Company; a 
creamery com- 
pany ; a society 
for the detection 
of rascals ; and 
many other useful 
a n d ornamental 

societies. The First School District of the First Society was incorporated into 
a village by an Act of the Legislature in 1893. The town was made a probate 
district in 1821. 

Su Afield has produced its full share of distinguished men who have graced 
the history of their country. Few men ever gained a greater national reputa- 
tion than Phineas Lyman, as statesman, as warrior, or as a business man. 
And from that time on the town has always been capably represented in the 
halls of legislation, in the ministry, at the bar, and on the tented field. 




I backward glance adown the long, dim years, 
Like a thick avenue of trees laced overhead, 
Through which no little ray of light was shed, 
But dews and chilling damps distilled instead 
Upon me as I walked in grief and tears ; 
Oft pausing, now to pray, and now to weep, 
As Time still drew me up the rugged steep. 
But now, upon the level plain I stand, 
Whose borders almost touch that other land, 
And backward glance with mingled joy and pain 
That I shall ne'er retrace that path again. 


1 1 



The board of Park Commissioners, as constituted for the first time, consisted 
of Messrs. William L. Collins, George Beach, James L. Howard, Gurdon W. 
Russell, and Gustavus F. Davis. This was in 1 860-1. Mr. Collins was of the 
well-known firm of Collins Brothers & Company, wholesale merchants of dry- 
goods. Mr. Beach was of the 
equally well known house of 
■ Beach & Company, large dealers 
in dye-stuffs, and president of a 
bank. Mr. Howard was head of 
„ ♦ the firm of James L. Howard & 

. \v Company, manufacturers ; and has 

since been a Lieutenant-Governor 
of the State. Dr. Russell was an 
eminent physician, noted for his 
interest in the natural sciences, 
and has been at the head of some 
of our most important eelymosyn- 
ary institutions. Mr. Davis was a 
bank president. It is a notable 
fact that all but one of these 
officials of thirty-five years ago 
are still living; and that Dr. 
Russell is still (but has not been 
continuously) upon the Board, 
and is one of its most active 
members. They were all cultured 
gentlemen, and neither was ap- 
pointed as a reward for activity in 
"■^ politics. 

No settled policy had then 
become established as to the uses 
and line of treatment for this (at that time the only) park. They say, however, 
in their annual report of 1861 : "It was not to be treated as a common pasture 
or open field; " and then they add, rather apologetically "we have no design 
or desire of making this a highly ornamental park ; such a plan neither meets 
our approbation, nor do we think it would be acceptable to the public." It 
should be remembered that, in i860, Mayor Henry C. Deming, in his annual 
message, had said, that the Park should be: "a pleasant promenade, parade, 
and play-ground. ... It should remain an open, free, unprivileged 
Common for the people." The italics are his own. It is well, also, to bear in 
mind that there was then a deeper craze for athletic sports than now ; if that 


Projector of the Park. 



were possible. And then the oncoming Civil war was over-shadowing all 
things else. People were timid, and so were the commissioners. It is evident 
that while they entertained ideas (as to park treatment) different from those of 
Mayor Deming, they were not inclined to disagree openly with him, and 
perhaps with the then prevailing public sentiment. 

Any way, for reasons good or bad, progress in the development of the 
park was slow. It appears that, in 1858, there had been a sort of selection of 
a final working-plan. Gervase Wheeler, an English architect, who had formerly 
lived in Hartford ; Seth E. Marsh, city surveyor ; Thomas McClunie, a 
gardener from Scotland, and about a dozen others, had competed with plans. 


Prizes were awarded to Wheeler, Marsh, and McClunie, in the order here 
named. It is understood that a modification, embracing some features of each 
of these was finally adopted, upon the advice of Mr. Fred. Law Olmsted. 
Probably the suggestions of Mr. Olmsted, the prince of landscape artists, were 
not wholly put in execution. The only one of these plans which the writer has 
seen, is that of Mr. Marsh. That plan contemplated : a foot-bridge~close to 
Daniels' mill; a fountain near the main entrance, at "Mulberry* street ;_ the 
retention and improvement of the Island, with two foot-bridges connecting it 
with the main-land ; and a reservation of a site for a State-house, near but a 



little south of, the location of the present terrace. Those who are familiar with 
Bushnell Park need not be told that none of these features were adopted. 
Marsh's plan included a straight street for Bliss (now Trinity) street. This 
was not then adopted ; but the straightening ensued after the erection of the 
Memorial Arch. He did not propose the pond, and perhaps that was entirely 
an after-thought. 

Both Marsh and McClunie took their turns in superintending the 
construction of grades, walks, etc., and probably each introduced some features 

'" • '.,:. 

The One to the Right. 

of his own. The latter, impelled by the exuberance of patriotism which 
characterizes many of our naturalized citizens, constructed the mound now 
occupied by the Wells statue, but he intended it as a site for a flag-staff. 




It was during Mr. 
Weidenmann'sterm, in 
1866, that the terrace 
was designed and con- 
structed, at a cost of 
$4,000. It suffers by 
contrast, since the 
Capitol was erected, 
and is sometimes 
facetiously called 
" Howard's Tomb." 
In 1863, such arrange- | 
ments were made that 
the College grounds 
became, practically, 
part of the park. A 
Wire fence and an 
ornamental gate-w r ay 
was set up between 
these adjoining tracts ; 
the park contributing 
about $1,100 toward 
the cost of it. Through 

From 1 86 1 to 1867, inclusive, Mr. 
Jacob Weidenmann, a Swiss, and a 
regularly trained landscape architect, 
was employed as superintendent of the 
park. He was a very competent man 
in his line. Instances of his work may 
be seen in his winding road-way to the 
summit of Mount Royal, Montreal; in 
the grounds of the Hot Springs Reserva- 
tion, Arkansas ; and elsewhere. He 
died about a year ago, his last work, as 
I understand, having been a design for 
the proposed Pope Park, now the 
property of this city. No doubt Mr. 
Weidenmann was much hampered in his 
work here, by lack of sufficient means at 
his disposal ; by the fact, too, that the 
main features of the park were already 
established, and that he had little latitude 
for the exercise of his skill and discretion, 
for the park was still maintained as a 
sort of common and parade-ground. 
Many games of base-ball, foot-ball, and 
athletic sports in general, drill-exercises, 
meetings of all sorts, destructive or dis- 
turbing in their nature — were permitted 
there ; and the result was that the whole 
area had very much of a back-yard 
appearance. It was not tidy, inviting, 
nor restful. 




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this gate-way, carriages were allowed to pass and have access to drive-ways 
then laid out on the College grounds. Here, on the river-slope was, and still is, 
the only primitive grove within the limits of either tract. May its venerable 
oaks long remain. 

With the construction of the bridge at the foot of Trumbull street, in 1864 
— not a highly ornamental structure — nothing artistic was added until 1869, 
unless the " cascade " known as the " Stepping-stones " comes within that 
class. But, in 1869, a statue, in bronze, of heroic size, representing the good 
Bishop Brownell, was set up, a little south-westerly from the terrace. It was a 
gift from his son-in-law, the late Gordon Webster Burnham. It stood there 
until after the erection of the new college buildings, when it was removed to 
the campus adjoining the same. 


With the introduction of this statue, it may be truly said that a change in 
the treatment and uses of the park was begun, which has more and more 
developed. It thereafter took on more of the character of a public garden, and 
became less and less a mere common and stamping-ground. Mr. Burnham's 
example was followed, in 1874, by the late Judge Joseph Pratt Allyn, whose 
representatives caused to be erected a bronze statue in memory of Gen. Israel 
Putnam. It was of heroic proportions, and cost its donor $12,000. The City 
of Hartford added thereto $2,000 for its pedestal. The artist of this work was 
John Ouincy Adams Ward. In 1875, a third brazen statue was erected, upon 
a temporary (wooden) pedestal. It was to the memory of Dr. Horace Wells, 
and in honor of his discovery of anaesthesia. It was designed by the sculptor, 
Bartlett, and cost $10,000, the State and City of Hartford sharing equally in 
the expense. Its granite pedestal was added in 1890, or thereabouts — by the 
contributions of citizens, mostly physicians, of Hartford. An illustration of the 
statue may be seen in the last number of this magazine. 

When and by whom the pond was contrived, is not known to the writer. 
It was appropriately made to assume the appearance of a natural feature ; but 

i 7 8 


the placing of a fountain in it, made a combination of the natural with the 
artificial which was incongruous, to say the least. It has been much improved 
in late years by the introduction of aquatic and semi-aquatic plants ; and, upon 
its banks may be seen some of our indigenous plants and shrubs. 

In 1872, the old college grounds became the " Capitol grounds," and by 
1880, the hill was crowned by the new edifice, surmounted by the gilded dome ; 
above the dome is the lantern, and still above this, at the extreme height of all, 
is perched the allegorical figure whereof a copy is shown on the upper cover of 
this magazine. 

In 1876, the park was, for the first time, given a distinctive name. On 
February 14th, three days before his decease, the City Council named it 
"Bushnell Park," in honor of Horace Bushnell, to whom its origin is due. In 
July, 1886, the Memorial Arch was completed. It is the principal artistic 
feature of the park grounds. Its cost was $60,000, and the expense of the 
reconstruction of the Ford street bridge, originally built in 1850, to harmonize 

. '-.- . 


with the arch, was $11,000. The addition of the six allegorical statues 
(completed in 1894) the lamps, change of grades, walks, etc., must have cost 
about $10,000 in addition, making in all about $81,000. The architect of the 
whole work was Mr. George Keller, of Hartford. The sculptor of the northern 
frieze of the Arch was Mr. John Kitson, an English artist of national repute. 
Mr. Kaspar Buberl, a Viennese, modeled the southern frieze, as well as the 
statues, and finials of the towers. Both he and Kitson had their studios in New 
York City, and specimens of their skill may be seen in that city, and in 
Washington and other places. 

The foregoing is a fairly complete summary of the principal steps toward 
the making of the park, excepting its river walls. Quite strangely, as it seems 
to me, this feature, instead of being the point of beginning work, was left wholly 
unattended to until 1884. It then occurred to the writer (who had just become 
President of the Board) that, at the lowest point in. the grounds (which was at 
the river), was the proper place of beginning; just as a builder begins and 
works upward therefrom. The stream traversing the park was not clear and 



to flow in its natural bed. Its 
and hold the foul material and 
and has been continued, 
difficulties and some opposition 
river's course. Retaining walls have been 

Progress was then begun 

crystalline, and was wholly unfit to be left 

margins were ragged, and prone to catch 

substances that drifted by. 

with limited means, and notwithstanding 

toward defining and delineating the 

laid as fast and as far as authority has been given to do such work ; and while 

they might better have been of more 
expensive masonry, they have, at all 
events, served an important purpose. 

There was not a great number of 
species of trees and shrubs on these 
grounds when the park was first laid out. 
Most were on the college grounds, where 
were to be seen the elm, oak, hickory, 
American hornbeam, hop-hornbeam (or 
iron-wood), choke cherry, ash, button- 
ball, horse chestnut, black walnut, and 
linden, the last five probably planted. 
On the park proper were elms, oaks 
(three species), one pepperidge and 
perhaps a maple or two. Probably there 
were less than twenty species on both 
areas. Now there are probably upward 
of two hundred and seventy species and 
varieties to be seen, by far the larger 
number having been introduced within 
the last ten years. Whether they will 
live and flourish, will largely depend 
upon the respectful treatment they will 
receive at the hands of the public. 


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A Seedling of 1847. 


of the Charter 


street bridges 

was set in the 
Now, at 

In 1867, a twenty-year old seedlin 
triangular plat between the Mulberry 
its age of forty-eight years, it is a flourishing, shapely and stately tree. May 
it thrive, and live to attain the age and proportions of its venerable and 
venerated parent. 



There's a bit of broken blue in the sky — 
A web of gray o'er the purple lake ; 

A gleam of silver along the strand 
Where the long waves break. 

A dove swoops down from the upper air — 

Snowy pinion and scarlet feet ; 
There's a breath of spring in the orchard-aisles, 
Balmy and sweet. 

This is Atalanta that comes this way — 
Bare white ankle and ripe red mouth, 
Blown on the budding April winds 
Up from the South. 



Undoubtedly, the first tower erected on a mountain top, in this country, 
for public use, was the one built on Talcott Mountain, in 1810, by Daniel 
Wadsworth. It was constructed of wood, fifty-five feet high, a hexagon, with 
Spiral stairs, eighty in number ; and its top was nine hundred and sixty feet 
above sea level. The view from it was of remarkable extent and marvelous 
beauty. It became noted, in this country, and even in England, (see 
Silliman's " Tour from Hartford to Quebec," published in London, 18 19; the 
vignette on its title page is here reproduced.) There were many things to 
attract popular attention to it. The locality was unique. A beautiful lake, 
nearly a mile in circumference, on so narrow a mountain top, was a wonder, 
and the whole region adjacent was full 
of natural beauty and striking contrasts. 
Mr. Wadsworth, at that time, was the 
foremost citizen of Hartford in wealth 
and benevolence. His father, Colonel 
Jeremiah Wadsworth, had a national 
reputation, having been Commissary 
General in the Revolution and having 
been afterwards a member of the first 
three Congresses under the Constitu- 
tion. Daniel Wadsworth married Faith 
Trumbull, a daughter of Jonathan 
Trumbull, — celebrated as having been 
General Washington's private secretary 
and aide-de-camp, twice speaker of the 
National House of Representatives, 
U. S. Senator, and Governor of the 
State of Connecticut re-elected ten 
times in succession. Mr. Wadsworth 
was something of an artist, — the 
engravings in Silliman's "Tour," being 
from his pencil, — and had a fine sense 
of the beautiful in nature. He had 
accompanied his father, and uncle, 
painter,) in their visits to Talcott Mountain, when that region was in its 
primitive state ; and, soon after his marriage, he conceived the plan of making 
this locality his summer residence. In his peculiar, patient, thorough manner, 
he secured deeds of more than fifty parcels of land, comprising two hundred 
and fifty acres, stretching away two miles to the north from the Albany turn- 
pike on the summit of Talcott Mountain ; and, on the northern cliff of the lake, 
erected a tower, while near the lake, overlooking the Farmington valley, he 
built his residence (naming the place Monte Video). The work of converting 
such a wild place into excellent roads, nicely graveled walks, and velvety lawns, 
was not the work of a day. It is stated that at one time nearly one hundred 


John Trumbull, (the famous historic 



persons were at work on the place, and it is estimated, from the accounts and 
papers left by Mr. Wadsworth, he must have expended nearly one hundred and 
seventy-five thousand dollars there, 
during his residence of more than 
thirty summers. The tower and 
grounds about his residence were open 
to the public under certain rules. No 
visitors were allowed on the Sabbath 
or on July Fourth ; no carriages or 
horses further than the lodge, at the 
entrance of cultivated grounds. Out- 
side this entrance was open level area, 
provided with hitching posts, for 
visitors' horses, and on pleasant days, 
they were well used by visitors from 
Hartford and the surrounding towns. 
The distance which must be walked 
from the lodge to the tower, was a half 
mile, — a very delightful walk however, 
over serpentine paths, beside velvety 
lawns, with occasional glimpses of the 
beautiful lake, and under the cool 
shade of magnificent trees, until the 
old boat house was reached, at the 
north end of the lake, where com- 
menced the sharp climb up the steep acclivity to the tower. 

Thousands are the feet, gone never to return, that have trodden these 
paths. It was here, in 1840, that Daniel Webster was Mr. Wadsworth's guest. 



Mr. John Trumbull, Mrs. Wadsworth's uncle, whose famous paintings adorn 
the rotunda at Washington, the Athenaeum at Hartford, and the Trumbull 



gallery at Yale, was often here ; as was the 
a sister of Mrs. Wadsworth's. The verse 
and prose of Whittier, Percival, Prentice, 
Mrs. Sigourney, and Senator Dixon testify 
to their visits. Miss Catherine Beecher, 
while in charge of the Hartford Female 
Seminary, was accustomed to ride out on 
horseback, at head of a troop of young 
ladies to visit the tower, being often accom- 
panied by her assistant and sister, Harriet 
Beecher, now Mrs. Stowe, and a very pretty 
cavalcade they made. If a register had 
been kept at the old tower, as there has 
been since at the recent towers, it would 
show, no doubt, many a distinguished 
visitor. Prof. Silliman says, in his descrip- 
tion of the place : 

" The beauty and grandeur of this place depend 
principally upon certain general facts relating to the 
geological structure and consequent scenery of the middle 
region of Connecticut." 

which he gives in " Silliman's Tour " but 
want of space prevents us from giving it here 
in full, the substance of which is this : 

" That while the greater portion of the State, being 
composed of primitive formations, exhibits the usual 
aspect of such countries, — a succession of hills and holL 

senior Prof. Silliman, who married 



>ws bounded by large curves, sometimes sinking 
deep, ami rising high, so as to create great 
inequality of surface, but rarely exhibiting high 
naked precipices of rock ; there is another 
region, commencing at New Haven, of 
secondary trap, or greenstone, which com- 
pletely intersects the State, and the State of 
Massachusetts, like a belt, passing to the 
confines of Vermont and New Hampshire; 
through which district, as in a great valley 
among the ridges, flows the Connecticut River; 
except below Middletown, where it passes 
through a barrier of primitive country. This 
region, from New Haven to Greenfield and 
Gill, in Massachusetts, is one hundred miles 
in length, varying in breadth from three to 
twenty-five miles, the most conspicuous 
features of which are the five ridges of green- 
stone trap that pervade it, generally in the 
direction of its length; having a peculiar 
physiognomy, rising in bold ridges, — ■ stretch- 
ing often league after league in a continued 
line, or with occasional interruptions, or in 
parallel lines, or in spurs and branches. One 
front (and generally that looking westerly) is 
composed of precipitous cliffs of naked frown- 
ing rock, hoary with time, moss-grown and 
tarnished by a superficial decomposition, 
looking like an immense work of art, — 
making the beautiful and grand scenery of 
Monte Video without a parallel in America 
and probably with few in the world." 

It is this whole region, which 
is in view from the towers of 
Talcott Mountain, the Bartlett 
tower at Tariffville not excepted. 


The great valley of the Connecticut gives the view its tremendous sweep and 
extent, while the narrower valley of the Farmington adds to its beauty. 

The first tower stood about 
thirty years and was blown down. 
It was replaced by Mr. Wadsworth, 
by a similar one, but ten feet higher, 
also constructed of wood. No 
representation of this second tower 
can be found, except in a wooden 
model, made by its builder, Mr. 
Nathaniel Woodhouse, now in 
possession of Mrs. Oliver Wood- 
house, who has kindly permitted 
a copy. In 1848, Mr. Wadsworth 
died, and Monte Video and the 
tower passed into the ownership of 
David C. Collins who still allowed 
the public to visit it. In 1864, 
July 19th, the tower was burned. 
Much of interest concerning the 
old towers and Mr. Wadsworth, 
might be written if space allowed. 
His large estate, left in charge of 
trustees — he having no children — 
was finally settled, in 1882, thirty- third tower. 

four years after his death, by 

Jonathan F. Morris, in charge of the same, who paid $800,000, to thirty-two 
heirs under the provisions of his will. 

Ill "'IIIImI |ii i|il|M|n llil umihmw 


In 1867, M. H. Bartlett and Charles A. Kellogg built the third tower; 
which was also of wood, sixty feet high, built with landings and outlook. Its 

1 84 


was on higher ground, a quarter of a mile north of the old towers, and the only 
road leading to it was constructed from the north, or from the Simsbury road 
to Hartford. The famous " Royal- View" was on this road. A refreshment 
house and sheds for horses were built near the tower and an admission fee was 
charged. In 1868, D. W. Bartlett, Washington correspondent of the 
Independent and Springfield Republican, purchased " Monte Video," and a 
road south from the new tower was constructed around the east side 
of the lake connecting at the lodge with the old Wadsworth road, thus making 
an approach to the new tower from either Simsbury road or Albany turnpike. 
The new tower had visitors from all directions, sometimes a whole town having 
a picnic there. In 1869, M. H. Bartlett purchased the interest of Mr. Kellogg, 
and in 1872 he purchased "Monte Video," the next year, however, selling the 
lake, cultivated grounds, and old Wadsworth mansion, to Henry C. Judd, of 
Hartford. In 1874, Mr. Bartlett built a house near the tower for his own 
residence, and also to accommodate a few persons who might wish to spend 


the night or a few days ; this house burned before it was occupied, but was 
immediately replaced by another, and for fourteen years, thousands of people 
enjoyed the wholesome fare, magnificent views, and bracing air. 

In 1887 or 1 888, Mr. Judd having sold his city residence, and purchased 
the Enders place, decided to sell Monte Video and placed it in the real estate 
broker's hands for sale. One day, in the fall of 1888, a stranger to Mr. Bart- 
lett was on the tower, making inquiries about Monte Video, which he was 
looking down upon, when he exclaimed " I wouldn't give Mr. Judd a dollar for 
his place unless I owned this. Do you want to sell your place?" Mr. Bartlett 
replied: "I don't think I do. I have lived here twenty-two years and I guess 
I will spend the rest of my days here." "Well, will you sell it?" A moment's 
hesitation, "Yes, I will sell it." "What do you want for it?" A round price 
was given, then further inquiries made, bringing out the fact that Mr. Ethan C. 
Ely, of Longmeadow, Mass., owned the site of the old towers and some forty 
acres more. Finally, Mr. Bartlett said to the stranger, " I have answered your 



questions. I will ask you one: Who are you?" whereupon the stranger 
handed his card on which was "Robert Hoe, New York." It was the 
millionaire printing-press manufacturer. The result was that Mr. Bartlett 
bought the Judd and Ely properties, and together with his own tower property, 
passed a deed of the whole to Mr. Hoe. Mr. Bartlett now supposed he was 
through with tower life, that Mr. Hoe, being immensely wealthy, might make 
the place more attractive than ever, and open it to the public. But when, later, 
he learned from Mr. Hoe, that he had purchased the place for his own private 
use, and saw the disappointment of his old tower friends, at the loss of their 
favorite resort, with Mr. Hoe's knowledge and approval, he decided to build the 
fourth and present tower, of Talcott Mountain, at a point near Tariffville, over- 
looking the wild passage of the Farmington River through the mountain. It 
was erected in the spring of 1889, was constructed of wood, seventy feet in 
height, and connected with it is a large pavilion and bowling-alley. It is 


within a third of a mile of the P. R. & N. E. R. R., where a tower station has 
been built, and all passenger trains from Hartford stop, excursion tickets being 
daily sold. 

This last tower is of easier access to the public, than any of the old ones ; 
certainly by rail, and equally so by carriage. This year, the carriage road has 
been altered and grade improved, so that carriages can drive above the sheds, 
to within one hundred feet of the tower, and conveyance can be provided from 
tower station to the tower, for those not wishing to walk. Conveyance is also 
furnished those desiring to visit " Old Newgate," but a few miles distant. The 
view from its top is substantially the same as from the old towers ; the eastern 
horizon-line being identical, measuring over one hundred miles in length, the 
nearest approach to which, is twenty miles distant. The immediate view is 
admitted by all to be more picturesque than any at the old towers. There is 
the same magnificent sweep of view over the valley of the Connecticut, reaching 
from below Middletown to the borders of Vermont and New Hampshire, 
covering at least 1,200 square miles, dotted with towns, cities and villages, — 

1 86 


Hartford, Springfield and Rockville being prominent, while on the west, far 
below, the Farmington valley stretches away to the north and the south, 
bounded by a high range, similar to the one on which the tower stands; but 


down hundreds of feet below are fields and groves and villages, spread out as if 
upon canvas, the laborers busy in the harvest fields, horses and oxen slowly 
drawing home loads of hay and grain, and trains of cars gliding swiftly along 
beyond the bright winding river — all appearing so diminutive in the distance, 
that they look like children's toys, spread out upon a rich green carpet. 

The Bartlett tower stands in the ^- 
s.ame town, Bloomfield, where all the A> 
other towers have stood, 



seven miles north. In the 
kept by Mr. Bartlett, we find the 
autographs of the late Ex-President 
Noah Porter of Yale, and Jackson of 
Trinity ; Professors Fiske of Cornell, 
Brocklesby and Johnson of Trinity ; 
Ex-Governors Havvley, Hubbard and 
Jewell ; Ex-Senator Dawes of Massa- 
chusetts ; Hon. Wm. Walter Phelps; 
Dudley Buck, the musical composer; 
Whitelaw Reid, the editor of the New 
York Tribune ; Samuel L. Clemens, 
the humorist; " Buffalo Bill," or Hon. 
William F. Cody ; Charles Dudley 
Warner, Elihu 
Burnett, Chin 

%*^c_ w^ 


Written on the leaf of a book presented Mr. Bartlett. 

Burritt, Rose Terry Cooke, Charles Nordhoff, Frances Hodgson 
Lan Pin, ex-minister to the United States from China ; Miss 
Fanny Hayes, daughter of the Ex-President; Miss Ellen Hernden Arthur, 
daughter of the Ex-President; Miss Alice, daughter of James G. Blaine, and 
many more. Here, in 1830, came John G. Whittier, and his memories of the 
place are found in the following lines : 



Beautiful Mount ! with thy waving wood, 

And thy old gray rocks like ruins rude 

And hoary and mossy in masses piled, 

Where the heart had thrilled and the dark eye smiled 

' Ere the spoiler's breath like a malin went 

Over temple and tower and battlement. 

I love to gaze from thy towered brow 

On the gloom and grandeur and beauty below, 

When the wind is rocking thy dwarfish pines, 

And thy ruffled lake in the sunlight shines — 

Where the beautiful valleys look glad afar 

Eike the fairy land of some holy star, 

By fancy seen — where the soul goes forth, 

With an unchanged wing from the cold dull earth, 

And the mists from its vision pass away 

Like the shade of night from the glance of day ! 

' Tis gladness all — like a dream of love, 
With a smiling forehead beaming above, 
And a beautiful hand on the temples pressing, 
As softly and sweet as an angel's blessing; 
And a tone breathed low in the dreaming ear, 
Like the chastened music which spirits hear. 

Beautiful Mount ! I may look no more 
On thy ancient rocks and lake's green shore — 
Yet the spirit's pencil has traced thy chart 
Of wildness and joy on the human heart, — 
And though my step may be gone from where 
Thy pine-tops shake in the stirring air, 
Yet oft will that chart before me pass 
Like a shadowed dream in a mystic glass ; 
And thy form and features, as now thou art, 
Live on in the secret depths of the heart. 



" Isn't it most time 
depart from the aqueduct, 
a few miles further. The 

for dinner?" asked John, as Sir Philip prepared to 

" Pretty soon," replied Sir Philip, " but we can go 

dried beef is pretty fresh yet," — and with a sad 

look at the spot where once glided " the heavy 
and were on the road again. " There's a bridge ; 

farewell, we gave one long last 
barges trailed by slow horses " 
I must have that," said Hug- 
gins ; and so began the series 
of those "long" waits that 
patient people like Sir Philip 
and John became accustomed 
to, for throughout the trip the 
bridges were many, and Hug- 
gins wanted to photograph 
nearly all of them. 

Crossing to the east side 
of the river, we observed the 
legendary stream of " Cider 
Brook," and what more 
natural after thinking of cider, 
— mugs by the hearth on 
winter evenings, than to go 
into the land of Nod. Even 
here, Huggins must take 

another bridge ; than we drove 

to East Avon, where we 

quartered our horses in a 

neighboring barn, spread our 

sumptuous repast of dried beef 

and crackers, on a grass plot 

by the mill, and sat down to 

enjoy the scenery and the 


Avon street is a pleasant, 

quiet place, formerly part of the old Albany turnpike, — hence its direction east 

and west, instead of north and south, as is the main street of nearly every other 

town in the valley. Over sixty years ago Avon had several stores, carriage 

and blacksmith shops, and three hotels. From morning till night there was a 

" steady stream" of vehicles passing through the town. At the time the canal 




was put through, in 1828, Avon foresaw great business in store, and was 
incorporated as a town in 1830. Then, for a few years, were its busiest times. 
Since then traffic and business have gone largely in other directions. 

At the west end of the street the house so high above us, across the pond, 
with its spacious grounds sloping down to the water's edge, its surrounding 
verandah and square architecture, giving it a comfortable, classical look, 
impresses us as an ideal place to visit in the summer, to read and dream, and 
doze, — provided that fuse-shop would not blow up, and interrupt our reveries. 
Just beyond the pond, around a bend in the road, we were shown the little 
house where two old ladies were murdered a few years ago, causing great 
excitement throughout the State at the time. Much as the deed is deplored, 
our sense of justice is further chagrined to learn that its perpetrators were never 
caught, thus adding to that list of crimes which so far exceeds the punishments 
for the same. 

. ■., ajJra'TOar 

5j&j£L^ir J. .. - . 


From almost anywhere in this vicinity, the residents have looked to Talcott 
Mountain and seen, just above them, a tower upon its summit, until since the 
spring of 1893. How the people miss the old landmark. Doubtless, the 
sentiments of many were well expressed by the farmer, who said "he'd rather 
give ten dollars, than have that tower gone from sight." Our stay in Avon was 
short, and soon we were on our way northward, passing through West 
Weatogue, with its beautiful memorial fountain, upon which is this inscription : 



The beloved physician of this town for nearly fifty years, this fountain is erected 

by his wife Elizabeth Hungerford White. 

Defunctus ad hue minisirat. 

Next to photographing bridges Huggins' delight was in reading 
inscriptions in the cemeteries. The Simsbury cemetery was of especial interest, 
although he did not understand all that he read. Why, 

" The memory of the just, 
Shall blossom in the dust." 



he seemed not to comprehend, and he construed the one which read, " Young 

Humphrey, died aged 76" — to mean that Mr. Humphrey died young, aged j6. 

He found that the Hum- 
phrey families were remark- 
able ones, and had many 

members, who, if names 

are an indication, must 

have teemed with genius : 

" Lurannah," ''Starling," 

"Florella," " Dositheus," 

and " Lura," were all 

Humphreys. "Those 

names," quoth Sir Philip 

"are not rare or peculiar ; 

my Aunt Kedijah, who 

lives in the Androscoggin 

district, has cousins on her 

paternal great-grandmoth- 
er's side, with such names 

as those." As if to 

compensate for names he 

had never seen, Huggins found a familiar one. 

center of the cemetery, bears upon its face, cut in clear, bold letters, — "The 

Grave of John Smith." Associa- 
tion of ideas, and his general 
absent-mindedness, led Huggins 
to remark, — "I don't find where 
Pocahontas was buried." After a 
while Sir Philip decided to go to 
the library, the others to follow 
soon. When Huggins and John 
went, they found out, before 
entering, that it was a private, not 
a public party there that day. 


A large white stone near the 



Sir Philip? As they 


road we were on, and to see if the sun was 

The knowledge he could display, after looking at this map, was awe-inspiring. 

sought the shade of a neighboring 
tree, he emerged from behind it, 
where he had retired to conceal 
his emotion. As our thirst for 
knowledge was not to be slaked 
at this place, we started to explore 
the surrounding country. We 
were now in what was formerly 
known as " Hop Meadow Street," 
named from the quantities of wild 
hops which the early settlers 
found growing there. 

Sir Philip carried a map with 
him to look up the names of 
towns, and to consult occasionally 
when he wanted to know what 
in the proper position in the sky. 



I'O l " X T A 1 X . \V E AT0GUE . 

Just here he used it, and asked a resident, "Where is 'Case's Farms'?" 
"'Case's Farms'? Case's Farms? Oh, ho! you mean West Simsbury. 
Haven't heard it called that for years. Oh, about four or five miles." So, 
getting the proper direction, we started. After going, as we supposed, the 
required distance, some huge barns by the roadside brought from Huggins, the 
query, " Is this ' Case's 
Barns'?" "Probably." 

At West Simsbury, sunn- ||(hL. 

distance further, Huggins 
took nine hogs on one 
plate, which Sir Philip 
claimed was gluttony. 
At the creamery we all 
produced our handker- 
chiefs, it smelled so 
much like Cologne, ac- 
cording to the accounts 
we have read. 

As the sun was sink- 
ing behind the moun- 
tain that shuts from this 
quiet little hamlet the 
region to the west, we 
started onward, for it would soon be dark and we must find shelter 
for over night. A hospitable soul took us in. His hospitality was 
at the rate of one dollar a person, but as John was a small eater 
he would take the three for two dollars and a half. He had but one spare 
room, but would put a cot in that. At supper, — which Huggins noted as " fair," 
— our genial host had delegated his charming daughter to serve the viands. 
This made Huggins' appetite so delicate that he ate up all the cake. Sir Philip 
didn't seem to be affected at supper, but late in the evening he suddenly rushed 

down stairs to see 
her, claiming that 
he wanted a match. 
In an hour or so he 
came back with one. 
It was a parlor 
match. " Then why 
not take a flash- 
light? " This large, 
airy, upper cham- 
ber, being at least 
seven by nine, and 
containing only a 
four-poster, a cot, 
(Sir Philip's trundle- 
bed, we called it,) 
a bureau, a wash- 
stand, two chairs 

and our baggage; we stood the camera outside in the hall, laid Huggins 
on the bed where he posed as " the retired photographer," had Sir Philip 
reading the history of "Case's Barns," leaving John to operate the camera and 
set off the flash. It was a brilliant event. But, alas ! unlike most such events, 


A |. 



it was not a success. Huggins had his feet toward the camera and the room 
was invisible. 

After changing our plates, we were soon asleep, dreaming of the pleasant 
experiences of the day. With confused ideas of a host of enemies applying 
the battering ram to our chamber door, we were aroused, only to find that 
" mine host" was in the kitchen below preparing the steak for breakfast. " Mine 
host " had a brawny arm and a pensive face, was smooth of speech and 
angular in appearance. We arose, and he told us the brook was down to the 
other end of the cow-lot. There we could wash. After breakfast, at whichnhe 
steak was found to be " chewable," we got under way toward "Salmon Brook 
Street," as Sir Philip's 
antiquated map had it. 
The latter individual as 
he looked about him thus 
moralized: "You see 
that in the sandy soil of 
this region the white 
pine-tree flourishes with 
its evergreen foliage. 
Strange that the hardiest 
trees should grow in soil 
where there would seem 
to be the least nourish- 
ment. Yet, is it not so 
in life? The greatest 
wealth of character and 
mind is developed with 
meagre opportunities. 
The luxuriant tropical 
vegetation soon withers 
and dies." At Granby 
Street we met an ac- 
quaintance of Sir Philip, 
who took us under his 
guidance to see the 
beauties of Granby, and 
that he might keep watch 
of Sir Philip, as he 
cautiously intimated. 
This friend was a most 
genial and accommodat- 
ing gentleman and it was 
rare good fortune to us 
that we thus met him. 
In hospitality he re- 
minded us of the English country squire, so, as "The Squire" let him be 
known to us. He took us down to a pasture at the foot of a ravine, and chased 
cows around into picturesque attitudes for Huggins to practice on. After 
spending the morning visiting the various places of interest about the town, 
such as the old lock on the canal, the pumping station for the public water, and 
the cemetery, The Squire suggested that " The Gorge " at West Granby would 
be a good place to go to in the afternoon. It was so arranged. On the way 
there, The Squire showed us a place where a cloudburst had washed out about 



a quarter of a mile of road a year or two ago, " and " said he, with a sigh that 
came from the depths of the pocket-book of a patriotic tax-payer, " it cost the 
town fifteen hundred dollars to fix it." ' It certainly was worth seeing, the havoc 
the water made on that road in one brief hour. Gigantic boulders hurled from 
their places as though but pebbles ; great trees twisted and snapped off ; the 
entire road-bed so utterly destroyed that a new road was made' instead of 
repairing the old one. 

"The Gorge" and its mill, for wildness and picturesque beauty, we found 
had not been overrated in The Squire's glowing description. For the artist, the 
photographer, the lover of nature, it is certainly an ideal place. The rocks 
here forming a narrow canon from thirty to fifty feet deep, show marks of water 
action to their tops. In the spring, with the water rushing through, the sight 
must be sublime. Well might Sir Philip attune his soul to the poetic as he 
clambered down the rocks repeating " Beneath the hill, there stands the mill," 
and when he had climbed up on the other side and looked down into the 
chasm, and on the ruggedness all around him, is it any wonder that he fell into 
the strains of the heroic, and declaimed : 

A place fit for the gods to dwell in of yore, 

When they waged their fierce battles and revelled in gore ; 

This chasm so deep, once riven asunder 

When Jove intervened his lightning and thunder; 

These huge boulders standing from an earlier world, 

In tumultuous wars by those bold Titans hurled; 

And they sat at grim feasts, high up on the rock, — 

While the waters whirled under, their mad mirth to mock. 

Maybe it was those same bold Titans that built the mill, for its looks have 
all the flavor of antiquity. It certainly could not be a more romantic place, 
with clearer, more crystalline water, than it is, had the Greek divinities planned it. 

Our route homeward was taken by the road running between the " Barn 
Doors," that we might get a nearer view of those famous hills, and after supper, 
and a visit to the village store, we changed our plates, and planned to visit 
Newgate the following day. 

(to be continued.) 



I dream, dear wife, in sunset's afterglow, 

That night will come and with it death and sleep ; 
That one will go and one remain to weep. 

Which one, dear heart, will be the first to go? 

Shall I lose thee? Dear God ! forfend the blow ! 
I cannot bear the thought ! Alone ! To keep 
Sad vigils day and night ! What deeper deep 

Of suffering can anguished sorrow know? 

Should Death entreat me ; comfort thy sad heart — 
Say I but slumber longer — that I rest — 

But do not weep, for time will heal the smart. 
But I — if thou obey Death's cold behest — 

What sophistry shall I employ? What art? 
I can but grieve and beat my troubled breast. 


A Novel of New York and Hartford. 



"So" said the old man, smiling indulgently as he spoke, to the younger 
one, — " so, cousin Scrope, you think one needs a good deal here below, and 
for a good while? " 

" I do so, — I do indeed," replied the young fellow: — " Now, I should say, 
an, 'ouse here in the city, — yacht, of course, — place at Newport, — ah, sweet 
place, Newport, such soft hair, you know ! — countwy seat on the 'Udson — say 
near Tarrytown — was up there yesterday — lovely countwy, I ashuah you. 
Went up there with Button — singular name that, Mr. Van Bwaam — Button, 
button, who's got the button? " 

" Oh, I don't know," returned the old gentleman, (not meaning any 
ambiguity), — " Monsieur Bouton would seem quite fine, wouldn't it? By the 
way, I wonder why there has been no Mr. Scissors? But how do you like 
Button's first name?" 

"Weally, I don't know it. T. Button, Esq., it said — Do you know, now, 
you 'ave a monstwous many hesquires in Hamewica? " 

" Oh, he might call himself Baron Button of Buttonhole, and sign all 
instruments, and sue and be sued by that name, if he chose. And he might 
have any coat of arms he might fancy, — a coat all over gilt buttons, if he 
liked — on his seal, and on his carriage too, without being annoyed by the 
proud minions of the College of Heralds. He may tattoo himself and all his 
house — and grounds — all over, with any insignia he chooses, for that matter. 
This is a free country, cousin Scrope ! " 

There was something satirical in the old man's manner, as if he were half 
laughing at both Americans and English. He went on however : 

" Tarbox Button, his name is ; ' most musical, most melancholy ! 

" Most musical, most jolly, I should say," answered the young man. " But 
I can't imagine were'e got that name, do you know? Hit's certainly not in my 
copy of the Squope and Gwosvenor Woll. Bwummagem name I should fancy, 
Button, at any rate." 

" Father," said the young girl, with a shade of grave motherliness and mild 
reproof in her manner — her mother was dead, and she was both mother and 
daughter to the old man — " Father, you musn't be bad, now, and make fun of 
Mr. Button. He has been too kind to us for that. What would you have to 
do, and where should we find so good a home to live in, and where should we 
visit at all, if it were not for him? " 

The voice was very sweet, and was low and clear like her father's ; but in 
place of the slight but perceptible sharpness of intonation which recurred every 
now and then in his speech, when his sub-acid humor tinged it, hers had a 


striking liquid fulness like the lowest notes of a full-throated singing-bird. But 
it was neither sad nor glad ; it had a certain indifferent or dreamy quality, almost 
as if the speech were that of a somnambulist ; or perhaps it was an intonation 
of weariness. 

" No harm, Civille," said Mr. Van Braam ; " I was observing upon his 
name, not upon him." 

" Vewy well off is Mr. Button, I should say? " queried Scrope. 

"Yes," answered the old man. "Here's this vacant piece of ground that 
this old house stands on, — why, it must be worth a quarter of a million dollars, 
and he finds it convenient to hold it unimproved and pay our New York taxes 
on it, until he has time to speculate with it in some way. Meanwhile Civille 
and I occupy one of the most valuable estates in the city," added the old man, 

" Do you know, now," pursued Scrope, lk I never should 'ave taken Button 
for one of the family if I'd met 'im by accident say in Gweenland? 'E 'asn't 
the style, at all." 

" Why," said the old gentleman, " I've often thought of it myself. But he 
had a pretty hard time when he was a boy, like a good many other rich people, 
and he has made his own way, without any leisure to finish and polish himself. 
Besides there is a poor strain of blood in that branch of the family ; those 
Gookins that his mother, old Mrs. Button came from were distillers and hard 
cases from generation to generation, by the town records; — rough, violent 
people, — a kind of natural-born pirates. And his wife's family, although they 
were decent enough, were narrow and small-minded, somehow. The fact is, 
that unless you take Button's executive ability as showing Scrope blood, there's 
only the record to prove that he has it. I don't know any of the rest of them 
that have so few of the family traits. And perhaps, as we are three Scropes 
here together, we may take Civille's and my Van Braam blood into our confi- 
dence and mention in strict secrecy that cousin Button's immense bragging 
about his Scrope blood is as near an absolute proof that he hasn't a drop of it, 
as any one thing could be. All the rest of us like to have it very well, but no 
other of us would advertise it so extensively." 

" Now I should 'ave fancied," said Mr. Scrope, after having listened to all 
this with evident and close interest, " that Mr. Button's political hambition was 
more unnatuwal in one of our connection than is boasting." 

" Very justly observed," answered Mr. Van Braam. " A good many of 
us have refused offices, and I know none of us except my cousin Button who 
wants them. But so it is ; Mr. Button is proud of his descent, and he is terribly 
fond of being talked about, of having influence and holding offices. I fancy he 
likes all that best of all, moreover, because it is such a capital advertisement of 
his books. And he is so energetic and shrewd in managing, that, you may 
say, he ought to have influence and office, particularly as he is reckoned per- 
fectly honest. ' The tools to him that can use them.' And he is very generous 
with his money where these two interests of his are concerned, and very sharp 
and close with it everywhere else. There, cousin Scrope — that is a pretty 
complete account of Mr. Button. It has only to be filled out with his minor 
traits ; and those you can see for yourself." 

" A vewy good man to 'ave on your side I should say," observed Mr. 
Scrope, smiling. " Indeed, he's given me some very good advice halready 
about horganizing the Squope Association. He knows exactly 'ow to manage 
people — exactly. 'E put me up to hall the dodges about the newspapers, and 
about cowwespondence, and influence and intwoductions. Do ye know, now, 
hi fancy I shouldn't 'ave been able to awange this matter at all without 'im." 


Mr. Van Braam smiled and nodded, as much as to say, The most likely 
thing in the world. Scrope resumed : 

"This other cousin now, Chester — your cowespondent about the 
genealogy, — 'e's hanother sort of person, I imagine?" 

"Why, yes," answered Mr. Van Braam. "He hasn't any money — that is, 
nothing except the little old place at Hartford where he and his great-aunt live 
together, and the income he earns. But an assistant-librarian doesn't have a 
very large salary, and I don't suppose his other revenues enable him to do 
much more than live comfortably. I guess Adrian is a pretty clear case of 
Scrope, though. He doesn't care much for money, he is fond of principles, he 
isn't afraid, he goes his own road, he has managed, by the help of a capital set 
of instincts of his own, to make himself a well-educated and accomplished 
young gentleman, he loves all manner of right thought and sound study, he is 
fond of fun, he is sweet-tempered, he likes pets and children, and old people, 
and they like him ; and he likes to do things for others." 

" Beg pardon," said Scrope of Scrope, " but if hit's a fair question, 'ow did 
'e get hout of 'eaven? " 

All three of the company laughed, and it was the young lady who 
answered this time : " The sons of God saw the daughters of men, that they 
were fair," she quoted. " It must have been my cousin Ann Button for whom 
Adrian came down to us." 

" Oh," said Scrope; "then if 'e mawies her 'e wont need to twouble him- 
self about money." 

" Very true," replied Miss Civille ; "and yet it would be a great mistake to 
suppose that Adrian wanted her money. I knew all about their engagement. 
Ann was never very much of a favorite with anybody in those days — I don't 
know that she is very much liked now. But then, she used to be really 
neglected and lonesome and miserable. Adrian just devoted himself to her 
because nobody else would ; out of pure kindness ; and so they fell in love." 

Mr. Scrope bowed an acquiescence, but with a queer look, which Civille 
understood perfectly, and answered : 

" Oh, you needn't think it — that was two or three years ago, when we 
were all younger and didn't think so much of money. Besides, Mr. Button was 
not nearly so rich then. It was afterwards that he made so much." 

" Oh," replied Scrope; — "That does seem like it. But I don't suppose 
the money will make him like her any the less." 

" I don't know about that," said Civille reverting to her dreamy manner, 
and looking out from great half covered gray eyes as if she was watching some- 
thing beyond the walls of the room — " I don't know about that. If I know 
cousin Adrian, it's the likeliest reason in the world to repel him." 

" I shouldn't wonder," observed the old man ; — " it would be Scrope all 

" If you'll allow me," said Scrope, " I'd like to suggest that that would be 
more suitable to the hold spelling than the new. S, c, ah, o, o, p, they used to 
spell it — Squoop, not Squope. Now Old Colonel Adwian the wegicide was so 
vewy particular that I say his name gave wise to the vewy term Squooples. 
He was full of 'em. And if my Yankee cousin is so squooplous, I don't know 
but I shall advise him to take the old-fashioned name again, and leave off the 
Chester entirely." 

" I dare say he would like to do so," observed Mr. Van Braam. "I want 
you to see him to-night, however, if possible, so that you and he may know one 
another a little before the Association meeting. It may be of service to both. 
And my old-fashioned ways," added the old gentleman with a good-natured 


smile, " make me desirious that all those of our kin should know each other. — 
It's high time he was here, too." 

" I can't honestly say I shall miss 'im," said Scrope, with a gallant look 
towards the young lady, " If 'e does not come. No man could be quite 'appy 
to see another hadmiwer in Miss Van Bwaam's pwesence ; and I know no man 
can see 'er without being 'er hadmiwer." 

At this not very elegant compliment one might have seen Mr. Van Braam's 
eyebrows give a curious lift, and he just glanced at the young man, but without 
moving what Mr. Scrope would call his 'ed. As for the young lady herself, she 
answered in her indifferent voice : 

" Oh, thank you very much, Mr. Scrope, I'm sure. But your Yankee 
cousin will not be in your way. He is engaged already, as we were saying. 
Indeed, we here are not at all in society; you will be free of rivals, both with 
my father and myself." 

"There, cousin Scrope," said the old man, "That's as much as to say that 
you may marry us both if you can get us ! " 

The young Englishman looked rather uneasy ; even fewer Englishmen are 
good at taking jokes, good or bad, than at making them ; and he answered 
quite at random, but as it happened quite well enough for such talk — 

" Vevvy 'appy, I'm sure ! 

The perfect coolness and speed with which the two Americans carried 
forward his hint to such remote consequences had terrified him ; for he could 
not be sure whether they spoke in irony or not, their manner was so entirely 
grave and impassive. 

Mr. Van Braam laughed quietly, the daughter just smiled, while the old 
gentleman remarked, 

" Not badly answered, cousin Scrope; but don't be alarmed ; we neither of 
us propose matrimony at present." 

The young man was silent for an awkward moment ; when there was a 
ring at the door, a card was handed to Mr. Van Braam, who said " Show the 
gentleman in," and the absent kinsman entered. It was our young friend Mr. 
" Cash," of the auction room. As he came in, Mr. Van Braam rose and stepped 
forward to receive him, with hearty cordiality. Miss Civille and Mr. Scrope 
arose, as the old gentleman, leading the new comer toward the fire, presented 
him : 

" I want you to be at home here at once, cousin Adrian," he said. 
" Civille, you knew your cousin better two or three years ago than now, but I 
hope you'll make up for lost time. Cousin Scrope, I know you and Mr. 
Chester will be friends, for you are kinsmen, and you have interests in common 
besides, at present, in this estate and association business." 

Mr. Adrian Scrope Chester had enough of general resemblance to Mr. Van 
Braam and his daughter, and indeed to his five or six times removed English 
cousin, to pass very well for a co-descendant. That is, he was tall, erect, well- 
formed, quick and easy in movement, and of an intelligent and comely 
countenance. His brown hair, instead of the cometary horrors of Mr. Scrope's, 
was brushed in a conventional manner, and curled in large soft curls instead of 
persisting in the frizzle of the Englishman, and his beard and mustache were 
thick and fine. His eyes were of a clear dark blue, his lips at once full and 
sensitive, all his features delicate and yet not small ; and whereas Mr. Scrope's 
bearing and presence gave an impression of good-nature, quickness, levity, fun, 
Chester's spoke of thorough kindness, instead of mere good nature ; of penetra- 
tion, of insight, instead of quickness ; of sense and directness and strength 
rather than levity; of general intellectual activity, rather than of mirth only. 


Comparatively speaking, the American seemed to possess large good qualities, 
of which the Englishman had only somewhat small imitations. And yet the 
English are very often what people sometimes call " singed cats — better than 
they look." 

The young people tried to do justice to Mr. Van Braam's favorable intro- 
duction : but Miss Civille's manner was chilling enough, although she did not 
mean it to be, and indeed in spite of her intentions ; so that Chester, barely 
touching her hand, which was cold and limp, said to himself, How did she 
come to dislike me? Mr. Scrope did rather better. He may possibly, in spite 
of the mild caustic that had just been applied to his demonstrations of jealousy, 
have felt some slight objection to the second young man in that company, or 
it may have been his ordinary awkwardness only that was upon him. How- 
ever, he made his bow, shook hands, expressed his pleasure, and crowned the 
operation by taking from his pocket a card which he ceremoniously presented 
to Mr. Chester. Mr. Chester received it with thanks, delivered his own in 
exchange, as seemed to be expected, and then took time to peruse the legend 
upon that of Mr. Scrope. The phrase is correct — he took time. The card, a 
long one, like those sometimes sent on wedding occasions, contained the 
following composition : 


And at the point where an asterisk is put, there was moreover a most 
noble-looking coronet, printed in the three primary colors, very impressive to 

" I am sorry my daughter was absent at your recent visits to New York," 
said Mr. Van Braam, when the four had seated themselves. " You and I agree 
on so many points that I shall be glad to see you and her contending over 
them. She is always refuting her father." 

But the kind smile and pleasant tone and half-mischievous expression with 
which the words were said gave them a second meaning directly opposite to 
their grammatical one. 

"I am afraid of controversies with ladies," said the new comer. "They 
receive things by intuition, instead of groping to them by feeling along chains 
of reasoning. Reasoning will not induce a woman to agree with you ; reason- 
ing with women is like hunting wild ducks with a brass band. It scares them. 
I should never hope to convince a woman except by making her like me and 
then unintentionally on purpose letting her see what I thought." 

" What treason ! " exclaimed Miss Civille, this time with a sufficiently 
perceptible tone of interest. 

" There you go ! " exclaimed her father, amused. — "Thirlestane forever ! " 

"Thirlestane? " queried Mr. Scrope. " How Thirlestane? " 

"Why," resumed the old gentleman; "don't you remember their motto? 
It's in the Lay of the Last Minstrel. ' Ready, aye, ready ! ' ' Civille will 
always answer the trumpet call when it sounds for battle over Women's Rights !" 

"Now father," she remonstrated; "are you going to quote every minute? 
How can I entertain the gentleman, particularly if you wish me to fight with 
Mr. Chester, if you open your broadside upon me too, like that miserable 
Frenchman against John Paul Jones in the Bonhomme Richard?" 

"Well, well, my child — I'm dumb — vox faucibus luvsit!" 

"But permit me to explain," said Chester, with some anxiety: "I had no 
treason in my soul. I do not mean that men have no intuitions, nor that 
women have no reason ; but only that as between the two, women have most' 
of one, and men of the other. It is just as it is with another couple of faculties 


— or sets of faculties; I mean executive power and what people call goodness. 
I believe men have most of the former, and I believe women are better than 
men ; I believe God put them into the world on purpose to be better than men ; 
I do not believe that either of them is destitute of either faculty." 

" I don't believe one single word of it," said Miss Civille, with a resolute 
tone. " If women are inferior to men in any particular or superior to them 
either, it's because they have been educated into going without their rights, and 
it's a great shame ! " 

"Well," rejoined Mr. Chester, pacifically ; " Miss Van Braam will pardon me, 
I am sure, if I venture to act as if I were talking with a man in one particular?" 

" I don't know about that," said the young lady, almost alertly— she had 
plenty of spirit, it would appear, under that cold languid manner, and the 
debate appeared not to be at all unwelcome ; " what is it? " 

" Why, only that really and truly, I do detest arguing and I tell you 
plainly, and say I'd rather not. I get so angry — or if I don't, I want to, — 
when I undertake to argue. But there's another reason for my begging off 
just now " — he looked at the two gentlemen — " I'll let you tread me into the 
very dust next time, but there are some things we ought to talk about." 

As they all agreed that the apology was real, Miss Civille was graciously* 
pleased to accept it. 

" First," said Mr. Van Braam, "when did you come to town? I got your 
note only this afternoon." 

" Yesterday, sir," said Chester. " I should have called last evening, only 
that I was too tired, and to tell you the honest truth I went to bed and slept all 
night long." 

" The wisest thing you could do. Next, let us arrange .about the Associa- 
tion meeting." 

This meeting, however, as quickly appeared, was set for that day week ; 
Scrope, moreover, in reply to their inquiries, showed them that under the 
experienced guidance of Mr. Button, all things had been put in such readiness 
that it only remained for the persons concerned to render themselves at the 
time and place appointed. Both Mr. Van Braam and Mr. Chester congratulated 
Mr. Scrope upon the thorough manner in which all these preliminaries had 
been adjusted, when there was once more a ringing at the door-bell, and once 
more a card was brought to the master of the house, who took it and read it, 
saddling his eye-glasses with an experienced little jiggle on the bridge of his 
nose, and looked puzzled. Then he read it again, very carefully, half shutting 
his eyes, cocking his head backwards, and focusing the object with a kind of 
trombone motion. Then his head dropped, and he looked around him like 
one who has received an unexpected affusion of cold water. 

"Why," he said, rather to himself than to anyone else — "what" — and 
he stopped, and said to the servant, with something of displeasure in his 

"Ask him to walk in." 

Returning in a moment, the servant reported that the gentleman had only 
a word to say to Mr. Van Braam, and would trouble him but for a very little. 

Still with the same wondering and half displeased look, the old gentleman 
arose and went out into the hall, leaving the door open. Listening, the three 
others heard some indistinct murmur of voices only. Then in a few minutes 
Mr. Van Braam said, speaking from the hall, 

"Never mind me for a little while, young people ! " and he shut the door. 
Evidently the business was to take rather more time than he had supposed. 




Chester, when the door had closed, proceeded to make some further 
inquiries about the Scrope Association and its operations. All these were 
readily answered, becoming quite a debate on ways and means, and greatly 
enlightening the querist. The Association, it appeared, consisted, or was to 
consist, of the descendants of Adrian Scrope, son and heir of Colonel Adrian 
Scrope the Regicide, executed at Tyburn on the 9th or as others say the 1 7th 
October, 1660. To these descendants, it appeared, there now of right belonged 
a certain large sum of money representing property which had devolved to 
Adrian Scrope the younger after his flight to New England, and which still 
remained so situated that the heirs could certainly recover it upon making 
proof of their descent. Scrope of Scrope, being himself a descendant not of 
the regicide Colonel, but of a younger brother, could not inherit while there 
were direct heirs ; but being fond of genealogical investigations he had come to 
a knowledge of the facts in this case. He avowed very frankly that he desired 
to make a profit by means of the affair, but he said that he was also partly 
actuated by the equally laudable motives of family pride and family liking. It 
was from these causes that he had come to America with the design of searching 
out the Scrope heirs, forming them into an Association, becoming their agent, 
obtaining from them the necessary funds, proving their claim, and receiving as 
compensation a proper percentage, to be allowed him when the heirs should be 
actually in receipt of their respective inheritances. This arrangement, of course, 
effectually prevented any malversation by the agent. In the prosecution of this 
undertaking, Scrope had first fortified himself with letters and documents, and 
had then come to the United States, where he had for some time been inves- 
tigating, advertising and corresponding ; and with much labor had advanced so 
far as to appoint the meeting referred to, in New York, one week from date, of 
a number of the American heirs. 

Miss Civille Van Braam took little part in this discussion between the two 
young men, listening only, and even this was with the air of pre-occupation or 
fatigue or almost melancholy which was habitual to her. So, when all at once 
business matters having been sufficiently debated, Scrope of Scrope suddenly 
turned to her and asked for some music, she started almost as if from sleep. 

H Oh ! Excuse me ! — What was it? — I beg your pardon ! " 

The request was repeated, and with an apology for her inattention, the 
young lady very readily went to the piano, and selecting some music, played, 
and then sang with good judgment and good execution, both instrumental and 
vocal, but without much emotion. The music she chose, apparently, was a 
graceful melody with lucidly arranged accompaniment, rather than crowded 
harmonies or technical difficulties ; it was sufficiently good music, and at the 
same time simple enough for mixed society ; safe music to play anywhere. 
There was a certain ease and truth of expression in her fingering and vocalizing 
however, which seemed to intimate the capacity of doing much more ; and the 
peculiar vibrating fulness of her voice gave the impression of large passionate 
vehemence existing, though it might be asleep and unconscious of itself. 

Having ended, she smilingly asked Mr. Scrope to take his turn, and he 
very readily complied. He sang one or two English ballads in a clear, not very 
expressive baritone or rather counter-tenor, and he sang without any embarrass- 
ment, sitting quietly on the sofa, simply explaining before he began that he 
knew no instrument. This style of singing is not very common in America, 
but it might well be ; it requires and gives, a sort of self-reliance of ear and a 
peculiar completeness of style, exacted by the absence of accompaniment. The 
performance, indeed, was much better than any one would have argued from 


the exterior and general bearing of Scrope of Scrope ; and he was applauded 

Next came Chester, externally much more easy in manner than Scrope, 
but in reality very much more shy. He would gladly have declined, but with 
some little effort he came up to the mark like a man, with the allowable 
apology that he could neither sing without an instrument like Mr. Scrope nor 
play like Miss Van Braam, and should therefore give them two inferior kinds 
of music together. So he went to the piano, and sang a little ballad of William 
Allingham's, whose words are sufficiently a specimen of that evening's per- 
formance to be worth giving. 


Ring ! ting ! I wish I were a primrose ? 
A bright yellow primrose, blooming in the spring ! 

The fleeting clouds above me, 

The little birds to love me, 
The fern and moss to keep across, 

And the elm-tree for our king. 

Oh, no ! I wish I were an elm-tree ! — 
A great royal elm-tree, with green leaves gay : 

The wind would set them dancing : 

The sun and moonbeams glance in; 
And birds would house among the boughs, 

And sweetly sing. 

Nay, stay; I wish I were a robin ! — 
A robin or a little wren, everywhere to go, — 

Through forest, field or garden, 

And ask no leave nor pardon, 
Till winter comes with icy thumbs, 

To ruffle up our wing. 

Well, tell, whither would you fly to? 
Where would you rest, — in forest or in dell? 

Before a day is over, 

Home would come the rover 
For mother's kiss, — for sweeter this 

Than any other thing. 

Chester was no player, and the air was nothing ; but he sang the pretty 
little ballad, accompanying it by a few chords, with so much truth of intonation, 
with so much expression, and his voice, not noticeable except for clearness and 
sweetness, conveyed so much of intelligent sympathetic feeling, that his rendering 
was more effective than a great deal of the "best" singing, and he was rewarded 
with genuine praises. Miss Van Braam's were not very enthusiastic, and yet 
they conveyed an impression of restrained feeling which meant much ; and 
Scrope's, somewhat over-eager and voluble as they were, still had sincerity 
enough in them to make them agreeable. They pressed him for another song, 
but he excused himself, saying, as indeed his flushed face, quick movements, 
and the evident tension of his nerves plainly enough showed, that he was easily 
excited by music, and adding that being unpractised, his fingers and his voice 
in such case quickly became uncertain. Nobody would have suspected the tall 
erect broad-shouldered fellow of being excitable. But he was, and the more so 
in proportion to the remoteness and spirituality of the exciting cause; that is 
more, for instance by music than he would have been by gambling or by a 


The conversation, which was now resumed, became lively, Scrope and 
Chester exchanging puns, jokes and nonsense, and Chester and Miss Van 
Braam finding that they had preserved in common many reminiscences of their 
previous acquaintance ; so that the young lady after a time, bethinking her of 
her cool greeting, was a little pained in conscience thereat, and very prettily 
apologized : 

" My health is poor this last year or two, since we came to live here, and 
my head aches a good deal of the time, cousin Adrian," she said ; " I very often 
hardly know whether I am alive. I am having a severe attack to-night, and if 
I was rude to you at first, you will not misunderstand it, will you? I could 
hardly see or stand." 

Chester hastened to make the proper answer ; and Scrope hastened further 
to offer a remedy. 

" P'raps you'd allow me to cure your 'edache," he obligingly suggested. 
" I've only to lay my two 'ands on top of your 'ed for a few minutes." 

Miss Van Braam hesitated a moment. But she reflected, how absurd is 
that conventional idea that the touch cf one human being differs from that of 
another ! And again, she said to herself, why should it be any worse than 
waltzing — or as bad for that matter? Still, she did not so much welcome the 
experiment as force herself to acquiesce by reason ; and her manner was a little 
cold — as often the case with shy and sensitive people — as she replied that she 
would be greatly obliged to Mr. Scrope if he liked to take so much trouble. 

That gentleman however, assuring her that it was no trouble but a privilege 
( " I should think it was," said Chester to himself contrasting the features and 
bearing of the Englishman with the pale and spiritual face of the young girl), 
jumped up, and, stepping briskly to the back of her chair, laid his two hands 
upon the top of her head. 

There was silence for a moment or two. Then Civille, who had been 
leaning in a tired way against the back of her great stuffed chair, suddenly 
raised herself, at the same time shaking her head violently, so as to free it from 
the touch of Mr. Scrope's hands, which indeed were almost tossed away in the 
vivacity of the rejecting movement. 

" Oh ! I can't ! you'll kill me ! " she exclaimed. Scrope of Scrope looked 
excessively displeased, but managed to say he was "vewy sowy, I'm sure ! " and 
returned to his seat. 

Civille suddenly threw her two hands up to her temples, uttering a low cry 
of intense pain, and resumed her leaning attitude, her head thrown far back. 

" Oh ! " she repeated, as if quite unable to repress the voice of physical 

To persons of sympathetic temperament, and whose kindness is a genuine 
instinct, perhaps no emotion is so piercingly painful as to recognize the suffering 
of another. Both Scrope and Chester had much of this feeling, but Scrope's 
was a sense of his own personal discomfort and a good-natured readiness to 
help. Chester, however, at once strong and sensitive, possessed a share very 
unusual for a' man of those spiritual endowments which are so little understood, 
and which are commonly termed intuitions. At the sight of the young girl's 
pain, he felt it, with a pang like a knife-thrust; he turned pale; his eyes filled 
with tears ; and in his inexpressible longing to free her from it, without any 
distinct purpose or in fact consciousness, his left hand, which was nearest her, 
was held out towards her. With a quickness like the spring of an electric spark, 
she seized it and held it tight across her forehead. Her slender fingers closed 
upon it like iron, yet with a quiver that revealed a frightful nervous tension. 

(to be continued.) 


" The Knight's bones are dust, t 

And his good sword rust ; 

His soul is with the Saints, I trust." — Coleridge, 

There is no grander subject in the world than King Arthur." — Tennyson. 

The progress and perpe- 
tuity of races, as well as of 
THE individuals, illustrates the 

AMERICAN doctrine of the survival of 
TYPE. the Attest. The evolution of 

humanity is based upon the 
permanency of the best race- 
elements. The English type combines the. best 
ingredients of the Celtic, Saxon, and Norman 
races, — more virile and vigorous than any one of 
its constituents. It is the assimilation of the 
hardy low-German and Saxon-Danish peasantry 
with the grace and fervor of fiery Norman 
chivalry — an Alsace-Lorraine union of legions, 
but on a larger scale — the supple German sinews 
encased in graceful and elastic Norman armor. 

The marvelous Celtic race gave us all the 
" glory that was Greece, the grandeur that was 
Rome" — our modern heritage of culture — and 
it distinguished itself further in fostering the 
hardy vitality and activity of the northern bar- 
barians who over-ran these oases of civilization, 
and who were later to over-run the British isles, 
in successive waves of Angles, Saxons, Danes and 
Normans — all branches of one fruitful tree — to 
form the dominant race of to-day. 

In the same way, America will produce a race 
derived from this sturdy Saxon stock, but 
stronger, greater, more glorious, because of the 
assimilation of other races. The German is stolid 
and phlegmatic, the Frenchman vacillating and 
vague, the Italian and Spaniard impetuous and 
spirited. The English is the blood of the world ; 
the German, the thews and sinews ; the French, 
the heart ; the Italian and Spanish the nerves. 
In America we are receiving all the elements of 
vitality and virility, and raising up a higher and 
better type of manhood and womanhood ; and 
this fact is being recognized more and more with 
each generation of our existence as a body politic. 
The typical American will not be "a thing of 
shreds and patches " made from odds and ends of 
worn-out races. He will be a real product, a 
natural out-growth — one in whom nationality 
will not interfere with a true cosmopolitan aspect 
and spirit ; and as he grows in racial and national 

stature he will more and more become truly a 
citizen of the world. He will gain this proud 
eminence, because ingrained principles of social 
equality, self-government, and the universal fran- 
chise, have raised him above the common herd 
of nations, whose citizens have no souls of their 
own but are merely undeveloped serfs of sov- 
ereignty. Over one hundred years of freedom, 
liberty, and equality have taught the American 
how to govern and be governed by his equals — a 
lesson that cannot be learned in a century or two 
in England and on the Continent. 

Dean Hole was right in saying that in America 
must be developed the dominant type to govern 
the world,— the highest type humanity can pro- 
duce, — the man of highest culture, broadest 
sentiment, deepest sympathy, and most consum- 
mate refinement : the perfect outgrowth of this 
land of magnificent resources. 

It is strange with all this so palpable to the 
senses that we should still have Anglo-phobia, 
French frenzy and mimicry, and other insidious 
foreign fads in our land. It is galling to a true 
American's pride that our plutocrats should fawn 
upon foreign nobility, showering upon this deca- 
dent caste their ducats and their daughters, 
promiscuously. But it is idle to criticise the 
folly of the over-rich. One example of our sub- 
lime snobbery, not to say national "greenness," 
is the ready query invariably asked of a foreigner 
how he likes the country, even before he steps 
upon shore. Our own Mark Twain has been 
pouring " hot-shot " into the lockers of the 
departing Bourget, because of the latter's ex- 
travagantly realistic diatribe on America, " Outre 
Mer." And because Mark is furiously funny 
when he tries to be serious, some asinine Ameri- 
cans have undertaken to defend Bourget, and 
taking Mark seriously, to defame the American 
critic, to their own manifest detriment. The 
whole embroglio is unusually droll, and it only 
needs Max O'Rell to stir up the diverse ingre- 
dients with his spoon of satire ; and, to end the 
entertainment, the little Count Castellane to 
dance frantically, in despair, because he did not 
get the " dot" he desired and only the daughter. 



'• While we are with the 

Americans we must as 

'•IT SMACKS the Americans do," is the 

OF THE SOIL." motto of most of our foreign 
visitors. Once it was the 
tendency to ridicule and raise 
a hue and cry about our ears thereby, after they 
had safely gotten home. Now, the other tack is 
taken. Since our World's Fair they have had 
their eyes opened to our immensity and grandeur : 
now it is the fashion to apostrophize, and salaam 
and gesticulate before our great national genius 
— like Aladdin before the wonder-genius of his 
lamp. We are all-wonderful, all-powerful ; in 
fact, the whole country is a national Niagara, with 
cabinets of curios along its banks. So Bourget 
explores us. even down to the Everglades, looks 
into an alligator's mouth and draws deductions 
therefrom of the immensity of our domain. 
David Christie Murray, a fourth-rate fiction mon- 
ger, comes here, and writes letters signed " A 
Cockney Columbus," to tell us things we already 
know. A member of the Comedie Francaise 
comes over for a week or two, goes to a few 
theatres, and stirs up the spleen of star-actors and 
managers with his envious shafts of criticism. 
The question is, why will our great, good- 
natured, healthy, infant Republic allow such 
nauseous emetics to be forced down its throat ? 
"A burnt child dreads the fire," does not hold 
good here. How much longer will we suffer ? 

Is it not better my brothers and sisters of the 
quill, that we become acquainted with, really 
familiar with, our own country, in order that we 
may write about it graciously, thoughtfully, sin- 
cerely, ourselves? Is not a home criticism less 
stinging, after all ; a domestic brawl preferable 
to calling in one's neighbors and gossips? 

But you will say we have no such thing as a 
rational criticism, and no national literature ; 
that our criticisms are superficial and provincial, 
our literature only given to illuminating bare, 
unfrequented spots, where travel is scarce and 
humanity scarcer. You will cite the fact that 
our greatest geniuses prefer to go off to some 
mountain fastness or remote parish, some country 
cross-roads or frontier settlement, and write of 
it in a tawdry "citified" style — as if a superior 
being was looking through a microscope upon 
some new parasite or microbe. You are right, 
there is no denying. We. like the foreigners, 
seek the inacessible, the remote, the casual, the 
characteristic, odd, and trifling. The truth is we 
do not know our own minds yet, much less our 
own country. There is a missing link in our 
literature everywhere. This manner of writing 
is only patch-work ; and there is no firm fabric 
between the patches to hold the whole gar- 
ment together. 

If we only had talented people all over our 
broad land, capable of writing of its beauties and 
attractions, its joys and sorrows, its significance 
and its short-comings, then might we look for a 
national literature — indeed, for the long-looked- 

for National Novel. Then would our land be as 
truly literary as England, France or Germany of 
to-day, as Shakspere's or Anne's England, as the 
age of Augustus or Pericles, of Alexander or 
Assur-banipal. We have seen only the be- 
ginnings of a national literature. We have 
had our Brock den Brown, Cooper, Irving, Willis, 
Poe, Bryant, and the poets of the beginning of 
the century ; we now have our aging Howells ; 
our Bret Harte and Crawford and James who are 
really foreigners ; our Cable, Eggleston, Garland, 
and a group of women-writers who are more 
promising and productive than their male peers. 
Many more could be mentioned but this is enough 
to prove the case. We must look to our women- 
writers in future for our local, home-made litera- 
ture, it is to be supposed. But it will not suffer 
in the hands of such writers as Mrs. Spofford 
Mrs. Rebecca Harding Davis, Mrs. Burnett, Mrs. 
Phelps-Ward, Miss ''Octave Thanet" French, Miss 
Wilkins, Mrs. Deland, Miss Pool, Miss Murfree. 
Mrs. McLean Greene, Miss Jewett, and in criti- 
cism Miss Guiney and Miss Repplier. 

We have often wondered why there have been 
so few story-writers in Connecticut, among such 
a number of writers in other lines. Rose Terry 
Cooke, Mrs. Sally Pratt McLean Green, Mrs. 
Stowe, and a few others that can be told upon 
the fingers almost, complete the list. Is it 
because the soil is sterile, the people barren of 
interest or incapable of idealization? Is it 
because the genius of our people runs to poetry, 
or history, or dry abstractions ? Is the land 
devoid of charm ? Has the day of productiveness 
passed? Is it not possible to awaken a new 
interest in this problem, to revive lethargic 
talent and develop later or new? We will 
welcome to our pages anything in this line that 
"smacks of the soil," that is truly of "the land 
of hasty pudding and wooden nutmegs" — any- 
thing that is up to our standard. But we de- 
precate the dialect story, which is not indigen- 
ous to Connecticut; the •' stage Yankee" having 
gone into innocuous desuetude a generation ago, 
and besides there is a very tame and lame excuse 
for a story that depends upon dialect. 

What shall we write about ? 
What is there to write about? 
THE CHARM OF Do you know how many 
THE things there are to write 

COMMONPLACE, about, especially in an old 
and settled commonwealth or 
community, that you never 
thought or dreamed of before ? Let us enu- 
merate a few for your benefit ? To this end we 
can do no better than quote a few lines from 
" The Art of Thomas Hardy," showing what he 
finds to write about in one of the oldest and most 
rustic parts of England. While we deprecate his 
morality, we certainly admire his art : 

" He dwells in a dramatic meditation upon the 
earth's antiquity, the thought of the world's gray 
fathers and in particular upon certain tracts of 



land with which he has an intimacy; upon the 
human traditions of old time, upon the pageant 
of the past, upon the relics of long gone powers 
and forces ; genealogies, rolls, tenures, heraldry ; 
old names and old houses lingering in decay, un- 
conscious of their age ; pagan impulses, the spirit 
of material and natural religion, the wisdom and 
the simplicity, the blind and groping thoughts 
of a living peasantry still primitive ; the antique 
works and ways of labor in woods and helds ; the 
sense of a sacred dignity inherent in such things, 
in that immemorial need of man to till the soil for 
his daily bread ; meditations upon 'the drums, and 
trampli'ngs ' of great armies, the fair forms of 
vanished civilities, the heroism and the ambition, 
the beauty and the splendor, long passed away, 
while still the old necessities remain, and still 
men go forth to their work and to their labor 
until the evening ; meditations upon the slow 
sure end of all those evenings in the darkness 
and the pains of death ; meditations upon the 
deep woods under the black starry nights, among 
the sounds of that solemn time, and upon the 
generations of laborers in their graves; medita- 
tions upon their stern or generous virtues, their 
patience, loving kindness, and self-sacrifice ; upon 
their humors and habits, the homely pleasant 
features personal to each man of them ; upon the 
great procession and continuance above and 
beyond those mortal lives of universal laws. 
And there is another side to his dramatic medi- 
tations : he loves to contemplate the entrance of 
new social ways and forms into a world of old 
social preference and tradition ; to show how 
there is waged, the land over, a conflict between 
the street and field, factory and farm, or between 
the instincts of blood and the capacities of brain ; 
to note how a little leaven of fresh learning may 
work havoc among the weighty mass of ancient, 
customary thought ; to exhibit the mercurial in- 
fluence of new things upon old, the frivolous 
fashion and light vulgarity of the seaside town, 
in contrast with the staid dignity and cumbrous 
strength of the gray village, the significance 
discernible in the intrusion of the jaunty villa 
among barns and dwellings and churches, old * as 
the hills;' to built up. touch by touch, stroke 
upon stroke, the tragedy of such collision, the 
comedy of such contrast, the gentle humor or the 
heartless satire of it all, watched and recorded by 
an observant genius." 

We have all this, and more too, to be developed 
in our commonwealth. 

It only needs a glance 
through our pages to detect 
A WORD OF a revival of interest, in this 
WELCOME. State, in literature pure and 
simple. And we can say this 
perhaps without undue con- 
ceit. Already we have flocking into our fold a 
number of promising young poetasters and prose- 
writers who give us of their best ; from sixteen- 
year-old Louis E. Thayer, who can do very 
creditable work already, to men of age and 
experience in both prose and numbers. We are 
well pleased that they have contributed their best 
work to our pages. We give them all a cordial 
welcome, and as many more as may come. They 

will have a large audience, at least : the present 
issue will be read by fully fifteen thousand and 
the next by perhaps twenty-five thousand. This 
is a phenomenally good start for a magazine. 

It may not be considered bombastic if we call 
attention, in this little corner to some of our 
contributors. Miss Adele Greene is of an old 
Connecticut family formerly located at Haddam ; 
she writes with a facile pen, and is familiar with 
and an enthusiastic lover of the old state. She 
is closely connected by kinship with Anna 
Katherine Green, the novelist, and some other 
charming writers and is equally at home herself 
in prose or poetry. Mr. Benjamin is of an old 
Granby family, a resident of Hartford, a lover 
of art, an inveterate book-worm and a close 
student of history and literature. He will be 
heard from in future papers. Prof. McLean, 
principal of McLean Seminay, is too well-known 
throughout the State as a geologist, historian, 
and lecturer to require introduction ; we hope to 
hear from him on this class of topics at no dis- 
tant date. It is seldom that father and son are 
addicted to poetry, but we have a brace of notable 
poems from such sources. Miss Larned is a 
constant contributor, and we are promised from 
her pen some attractive papers on semi-historical 
topics that will be sure to please. Mr. Chadwick 
is a new contributor, has only been writing for a 
year, but gives decided promise as a poet. Mr. 
Denton's stories are remarkable for their pecu- 
liar Poesque treatment, and as a poet has won his 
laurels already; we give two of his poems, the 
first a Walt Whitman impromptu, the second a 
sonnet, in which line he shows distinction and 
finish. Prof. Martin H. Smith, for a number of 
years at the head of the Connecticut Literary 
Institution, and now Judge of Probate at Sufileld, 
writes entertainingly of his town, and we hope 
will appear often in our pages. He is a man of 
culture and refinement, a class-mate of Henry M. 
Alden, the editor of Harper's Magazine, a fine 
conversationalist and raconteur, and writes as 
cleverly as he talks. The other contributors in 
this number were introduced to the reader by 
our first issue, and hence will not require 
extended mention. We shall present some new 
writers in the next issue, who will please as well 
as profit their numerous readers. We invite 
others to contribute stories, poems, historical 
sketches, and anything of general interest ; re- 
membering always that " work is the genius that 


" The criminal classes are so close to us that even a policeman can 
poet can understand them." 

see them. They are so far away from us that only 

" How best to help the slender store, 
How mend the dwellings of the poor, 

How gain in life, as life advances, 
Valor and charity more and more. — Tennyson. 


inter-relations of 

In our last issue we had 
occasion to refer to the 
duties and obligations of the 
church in relation to charity 
with especial reference to the 
"Institutional Church.'" In 
the present issue, we wish to 
add a few words as to the 
the medical profession anrl 
the charity organizations. We can not do so in 
more fitting words than those of George M. 
Gould, A. M., M. D., of Philadelphia, President 
of the American Academy of Medicine, in his 
address before that body at its 1894 annual 
meeting : 

"Ours is a missionary society at heart, but at its 
head it is a scientific one, — like medicine itself. 
indeed in these respects — and it is a peculiarity 
of our work that we should seek to determine 
intellectually the true bases and relations of 
professional and social progress. . . . His- 
torically and presently, medicine is astonishing- 
ly self-forgetful, and most egregiously altruistic 
of all the sciences and arts. . . .' If we do 
not strike hands with Lombroso and say all 
crime is due to the abnormality of organism, 
certainly crime and disease have some most 
intimate relations. What are they? What 
likewise are the subtle bonds that link together 
disease, physiologic or neurologic, with mental 
abnormalism ? We do not seek to escape from 
our responsibility for much of the world's 
blindness ; the idiot is physiologically defec- 
tive ; otology and laryngology have not said 
their last words as to deaf-mutism ; every 
United States pensioner holds a physician's 
certificate (more's the pity !) Have the sur- 
geons done all that is possible for the cripples? 
Have we no accountability for pauperism, no 
responsibility for the criminally high death- 
rates, and no guilt for the criminally low 
average length of life? In the mysterious 
tapestry of civilization, disease is weaving a 
thousand miscolored and rotten fibres that mar 
its beauty, spoil its design, and weaken its 
strength. Shall we long permit with careless 
consent such negligent and fateful weaving? 
Nay, shall we longer consent to be ourselves 
such weavers? . . . " In China the making 
of monstrosities was a regular business by 
putting children in pickling vats for years, by 
breaking and bending their bones, or by trans- 
planting upon their bodies bits of the skin of 
animals. We are horrified at this, but are we 
not equally infamous with our dime-museum 
glass-eaters, our foundling asylums, and our 

patent medicine beastliness ?" . . . One of 
the strangest and most dazing tiuths that soon 
becomes manifest is that charity as commonly 
practiced is sin. The word, like many another, 
bears witness to the sad history of mankind. 
The beautiful Greek word is almost untranslat- 
able into English. Its gracious compassion or 
tender pity has become simply almsgiving, a 
thing usually a double curse, degrading both to 
the giver and to the receiver. To relieve 
suffering is the delight and the duty of all good 
hearts, but we must see to it, 1, that the suffer- 
ing is real and not fictitious ; 2, that, if real, it 
is not deserved ; 3, and most important, that 
by our methods, we do really relieve and do not 
increase the suffering. Itis just here that we 
run across the first principle of the charity- 
organization societies, which is to make benev- 
olence scientific. It has for years been my 
practice to give every street beggar a charity 
organization card with promise of relief, if he 
should be found worthy by the agent of the 
society. Only one has ever returned and he 
was set right* without any alms giving." . . . 
" Mendicity is mendacity. The crimes of 
tramps and street-beggars are only surpassed 
by the crimes of those who give to them. 
Mendicancy, in all its forms arid masks is not 
the result of poverty, but is the cause of 
poverty. All indiscriminate alms-giving, all 
wholesale crowd relief, or collective-relief of 
want or suffering is either a forged, to-be-pro- 
tested promise-to-pay note of sympathy, or it 
is the payment of wages for something done. 
Nine times out of ten it is selfish charity or 
self-flattery. Foolish people love to fla'tter- 
themselves that they are kind-hearted. Benev- 
olence is fashionable, and fashionable people 
— are fashionable ! One of the most debauch- 
ing and disgusting forms of selfishness is that 
of indiscriminate philanthropy. For downright 
diabolism witness the mutual hatreds of two 
rival professional philanthropists ! Alms-giving 
on the other hand, is wages ; by giving to 
beggars and tramps we pay for the continuance 
and increase of beggary and trampism ; by 
Sunday breakfasts we increase hunger on Sun- 
day mornings, and we also secure listeners for 
our pseudo-religious after-performances ; by 
indiscriminate out-patient relief we stimulate 
the production of disease, hire patients to ex- 
periment on, increase our own reputation or 
that of our hospital, and at one fine stroke 
pauperize both the profession and the populace ; 
by municipal workshops, State-aid to the un- 
employed and socialistic demagogism, we hire 
people to be unemployed, to strike, and to 
lessen the sum-total of production ; by institu- 
tionalism gone mad, we hire the people to get 
rid of their personal duties to their dependents, 
and hire those on the borderland of breakdown, 



physical or mental, to give up the last instinct 
of self-help. We pay for these things and many 
like them when we give alms and taxes, and 
hire other people to be sympathetic for us. Of 
course, what we shirk* doing ourselves, our 
hired agents will hardly do better. 'Like 
master, like man.'" . . . "Money given to 
the endowment or support of hospitals is likely 
to become a curse instead of a blessing to 
humanity unless certain provision is made 
against indiscriminate free treatment. . . . 
Indiscriminate medical charity is just as per- 
nicious as indiscriminate alms-giving. . . . 
The nobler and infinitely more important 
sciences of public hygiene and preventative 
medicine are left unturthered or are turned 
over to the non-medical world. Thus in this 
blind man's race we rush impetuously to a silly 
suicide." ... As ordinary citizens and 
members of society we must each become mem- 
bers of the charity-organization societies, and 
as physicians we should use this method of 
therapeutics, just as we do hospitals, climate, 
nurses, food, or sanitation. In some respects, 
it seems a great pity that as a profession, we 
have allowed the beneficient exotic of charity 
organization to grow almost wholly out of lay 
ground, and not in the sacred soil of medicine. 
. . . There is a place and a possible useful 
occupation for every tramp and beggar. Most 
of them do not want to have their infirmity 
healed. Ours is the duty of unmasking at least 
the physical fraud.' " 

Dr. Gould is undeniably right in his axiom that 
" Mendicity is mendacity." He gives some simple 
rules to follow : "1, Don't help frauds. 2, Help 
so as to make future help unnecessary. 3, Don't 
hire people to be miserable. 4, Prevent depend- 
ency." If physicians would only practice these 
rules also, it would be a great saving to them- 
selves of time and money. They must clean 
house for themselves. "Physician, heal thyself," 
is not inapplicable here. There would be fewer 
cases of hysteria and hypochondria among the 
poor if the charity physician's aid was not free to 
all. How many hospitals there are that are 
simply training-schools for incompetent "saw- 
bones." How many doctors there are that are 
willing to do mission-work in the slums for the 
miserable pittance of charity-societies, — rather 
than give up an untenable position in an over- 
crowded profession. 

The greatest evil of modern society is depend- 
ency. It is part and parcel of socialism. Every 
dependent is an unnecessary and expensive 
burden on the community. The dependent is the 
product of disease mainly, and, curable or not, is 
the patient of society. He is also the patient of 
the physician who must either cure him or kill 
him off before society and the physicians are 
relieved of the burden. But, dependency is 
mainly due to, and is wholly aggravated by idle- 
ness. The inactivity of the occupants of our 
poorhouses and asylums breeds disease. Our 
descendants will cry out against us for housing 
our insane, epileptics, paupers, and criminals, in 
enforced idleness, at the expense of the thrifty 
outsider. Then again, charity driblets and " free 
soup" philosophy is despicable. Rather than 
cheap and free food we should teach the poor the 
proper choice, the proper cookery, and proper 

use of food. American families waste more food 
than would keep a French family of the same 
social status in comfort. But it will be long 
before people will listen to Edward Atkinson's 
advice in these respects. 

Of course society should take care of the hope- 
lessly idiotic, but study to prevent their recur- 
rence; there are hundreds who are needlessiy 
blind, and yet no law prevents the incapacity of 
the guilty practitioner ; the crippled, the deaf, 
the senile, and the epileptic, appeal to our 
sympathy and receive it, — but are tljey not all 
more or less capable of partial self-support ? " 
"Idleness," as Dr. Ferrier says : " increases the 
instability of the nervous system." As for the 
insane, therefore, — what a shame it is that many 
thousands of over-active, unstrung nervous 
wrecks are kept in idleness, hopelessly and 
expensively, at a great cost to the tax-payer, to 
the physician, and to the patient whose sufferings 
might be lightened or entirely removed by 
colonization, employment, and individualization. 
The cottage system is after all the best. 

The charity-organization society has found 
remedies lor nearly all social evils. It remains 
for us to help, to utilize, and to realize their 
nearly realized ideal. We must individualize our 
cases, and get into the personal relations with 
our dependents, (not lump them together as so 
many cattle) ; we must cure, and not simply 
endure our unfortunate brethren : we must give 
them employment ; reward self-help ; discourage 
dependency, and encourage self-respect. 

The time will come when all charity will be 
organized and controlled by the State, and its 
recipients will bear their part of the burden. 


The work accomplished by 

the Connecticut Society for 

THE Universitv Extension during 

CONNECTICUT the winter months of this 

SOCIETY FOR year has amply fulfilled the 

UNIVERSITY promise of last Fall. In four 

EXTENSION, cities of the state as well as 

a large number of farming 

communities the work has 

been prosecuted with great earnestness, and we 

have every reason to be gratified, not only with 

the average size of the audiences, but also with 

the quality of the results accomplished. 

The four cities which have done their work this 
year under the jurisdiction of the State Society 
are New Haven. Waterbury, Meriden and Hart- 
ford. New Haven was first in the field with a 
course by Professor Rosa, ot Wesley an, on " Elec- 
tricity, " which was listened to by an attendance 
averaging from 150 to 175 persons. With the 
ensuing course by Dr. Richard Burton, on "The 
History of Fiction," the size of the audiences rose 
to 250. The concluding course of this series was 
given by Professor McCook of Trinity, on "Some 
Pathological Aspects of Social Topics." Gratify- 
ing as these results are for the first year's work 
of a new " center, " they have been surpassed at 
Waterbury where regular University Extension 
courses were also begun for the first time this 
season. The published programme of the Water- 
bury organization has a formidable appearance 
for the first year's work of a new " center." It 
includes courses by Professor Rosa of Wesleyan 



on Electricity, by Dr. Richard Burton on The His- 
tory of English Fiction. The English Language 
and American Literature, by Professor Rice of 
Wesleyan, on Evolution, and Sandstones and 
Traps of the Connecticut Valley, by Dr. Anderson, 
of Tale, on Physical Culture and by Professor 
Conn of Wesleyan on The Study of Flowers. 

There are upwards of 300 regular members and 
the audiences have averaged from 300 to 400 
persons. Supt. Crosby, the chairman of the 
Executive Committee, in concluding his report 
says : '• The success of the University Extension 
Movement in Waterbury has been quite beyond 
our early anticipations. We think we have done 
very well in furnishing twenty-one lectures at a 
cost to the members of less than fifteen cents for 
each lecture. 

Even this record of attendance has been sur- 
passed by the Meriden " center " which likewise 
began its work this year. But two courses have 
been given, by Professor Rosa, on " Electricity," 
and Dr. Burton on "The History of Fiction," but 
there have been over 600 subscribers, an attend- 
ance which has taxed the capacity of the hall 
where the lectures were held. 

In Hartford we have had three reguiar Uni- 
versity Extension courses : Professor Phelps of 
Yale on the Elizabethan Drama, Professor Win- 
chester of Wesleyan on The Age of Queen 
Anne as seen in Literature and Professor 
Kulms of Wesleyan on French Literature in 
the Nineteenth Century. The attendance at 
Professor Winchester's course averaged about 
300, at Professor Phelps' course over 100, while 
Professor Kuhn's course which is now in progress 
promises about as well. 

While these figures of attendance fall somewhat 
below those reported from one or two of the 
other '• Centers," the average expense to the 
"members," that is the holders of season tickets, 
will not compare unfavorably with the result 
reported elsewhere. A notable feature of the 
season's work in Hartford has been the series of 
free organ recitals at the Center Church. These 
recitals form an important feature in the Educa- 
tional work of the Hartford Society and their 
success is attested by the size of the audiences 
which have filled the old church to overflowing 
during the entire season. 

Turning to another department of the state 
work I would speak in conclusion of the success 
of the lecture courses on agricultural subjects, 
given before different Grange audiences. One of 
the lecturers on our agricultural staff, Mr. George 
A. Mitchell, has already given, or arranged to 
give, a course on Crops, Soils and Fertilizers at 
seven different places and fifteen other Granges 
have applied for lectures by different members of 
the faculty of the Storrs Agricultural College. 


<v r 



The work of the School of 
Sociology is now so well 
known that no special intro- 
duction to it is necessary. 
The lectures for the term just 
closed have maintained a high 
grade of excellence. They have included a course 
by Prof. Falkner, of the 'University of Pennsyl- 
vania, on Statistics ; the Evolution of Custom, by 
Prof. Ripley, of Columbia ; the Evolution of Law 
by Prof. Er'win of the New York University Law 

School; two courses in Kulturgeschichte l>.\ Prof. 
Monro of the University of Pennsylvania, and Dr. 
Geer; The Social History of the United states, bj 
Prof. Jameson of Brown ; a theological discussion 
of the nation by Prof. Sloane. whose Life of 
Napoleon is now appearing in the Century ; and a 
course in Ethics by President Hartranft. Ques- 
tions of immediate' practical interest were dis- 
cussed by Prof. Rowe of the University of Penn- 
sylvania, who spoke on Municipal Problems, and 
by Prof. Atwater, who considered the matter of 
Food Supply. In connection with this last a 
study was made of the dietaries of typical Hart- 
ford families, and other investigations of interest 
in connection with food supply were started. 

Another important line of work, which has 
become more throughly organized during the 
past term is the friendly visiting which is carried 
on in connection with the Charity Organization 
Society, and which aims to bring about by per- 
sonal contact a better understanding of those 
classes with which practical sociology finds its 
most immediate concern. Institutions of special 
sociological interest in Hartford and the vicinity 
have been studied by visits of personal inspection, 
and special facilities for examinations have 
usually been granted. The library has received 
constant additions, and a systematic attempt is 
being made to procure the reports and literature 
of all societies, public and private, in the country, 
whose work touches on Sociology. 

In January, a meeting of Hartford women was 
called at the house of Miss Emily Morgan, for the 
purpose of organizing a Sociological Club. The 
Rev. Dr. Chester D. Hartranft presented a general 
outline of the purpose and methods of the pro- 
posed club which was duly organized, and has 
now a membership of over one hundred, with Dr. 
Hartranft as its president. The membership is 
fifty cents a year, and members are entitled to 
free attendance at the School of Sociology. The 
object of the Club is to promote the study of 
Sociology, and its practical development in Hart- 
ford. It' aims to co-operate with all other insti- 
tutional efforts which are being made to improve 
the city, and to consolidate, as far as possible, all 
of the Sociological organizations. 

The club is divided into sections, according to 
the number of works undertaken. The sections 
devote themselves under the instruction of the 
Club, to separate Sociological work, and may 
discuss papers submitted by their members or 
engage specialists to lecture on specific topics de- 
scriptive of their fields. Sections have already 
been formed on Tenement Houses, the Settle- 
ment, Food, the Parish Burying Ground, and 
Women Wage-earners. The ' Tenement House 
Section and^the Settlement Section, have been 
the most active so far. A house has been rented 
for Settlement work. Miss Woods is living there 
as head-worker, and one or two Hartford women 
are to be with her as '-residents" for two or 
more weeks at a time. The tenement houses on 
many of the streets have been investigated, 
and the city laws regarding landlords and 
tenants have been type-written for the 
benefit of the section. Several houses have 
been reported to the Board of Health, and it is 
hoped that the efforts of this Section will procure 
practical results in the improvement of the tene- 
ment districts. 

Arrangements are now being made for the 
second year of the School, and there is every 
prospect that there will be no falling off from the 
high standard already attained. Announcements 
of" lecturers will probably be ready in the course 
of a month or two. 





Five thousand miles of 
travel ; three hundred com- 
CONNECTICUT plaints received and investi- 
HUMANE gated — a record made of 

SOCIETY. every case ; relief given to 
150 old people and children, 
and 1,000 animals : 31 con- 
victions — resulting from 35 prosecutions; the 
distribution and sale of 1,000 copies of " Anna 
Malann,'— making 4,000 in all; the publication 
and distribution of 4,500 copies of the Society's 
Fourteenth Annual Report, together with cor- 
respondence and necessary details, is a modest 
summary of the work for the first quarter of 1895. 
In the ''Annual Report" just issued, the 
President calls attention to some facts that bring 
reflection to every thoughtful mind. — the wanton 
destruction of millions of beautiful birds to meet 
the demands of fashion, and the mutilating of 
man's most useful servant by docking. This year 
the Society presented a bill to the Legislature to 
prohibit the practice, and the measure bids fair 
to become a iaw. 

The President also calls attention to the fact 
that the Connecticut Humane Society has rarely 
had occasion to apply for additional or amended 
legislation. Sometimes the ill-will of an offender 
or his friends are aroused, making itself apparent 
in the introduction of bills to impair the Society's 
usefulness. In the present Legislature, there 
has been introduced a bill to make the Society 
pay costs in cases where the accused is not con- 
victed, or in any way released without payment 
ot costs. The bill provided also, that the Society 
pay the defendant's counsel and witness fees. It 
hardly seems probable that so unreasonable a 
measure will become a law. None, except cruel 
men who neglect their families, beat their wives, 
and abuse or starve and neglect their animals, 
would rejoice at the passage of such a measure. 

The Society is awaiting an important legal 
decision which may have some influence on its 
work in the future. A farmer, who had some 
starved and neglected horses, was visited by the 
General Agent who found them starved and 
valueless, and, after remonstrating without avail, 
legally condemned and killed the animals, to 
protect them from further cruelty and suffering. 
Evidence showed that the horses were valueless 
and the Agent had kept strictly within the law. 
The Justice, however, assumed to decide consti- 
tutional questions, and declared the right of 
eminent domain superior to any police regulation, 
and accordingly found against the Agent the 
amount of $35 — the owner's valuation of the 
animals — though he admitted he only gave $7 
for one of them. An appeal was taken and the 
outcome in the higher Court is awaited with 

This Society entering upon its sixteenth year, 
can look back with gratification upon its growth 
and uniform success, yet humane work is only in 
its infancy. It was many years before public 
humane sentiment, in this country, broke the 
chains of every African slave. There is a force 
now at work — slowly, perhaps, but surely — 
that will inculcate in a humane public sentiment 
that will recognize the rights in this world of the 
lower orders of creation. 

-^L^^^y <£ 0Zl^U^ 



" Other slow arts entirely keep the brain, 
And therefore, finding barren practicers, 
Scarce show a harvest of their heavy toil." — Shakespere. 




On the tinkling notes, and faint, 

Of the spinet old and quaint, 

Once pretty hands oft lightly strayed, 

Coaxing gentle melodies, 

From the slender ivory keys, 

In days when dainty tunes were played. 

In frock of dimity bedight, 

Of a fashion then the height, 

Perchance, some maid, demure and slim, 

Practiced here a canzonet, 

Or a graceful minuet, 

In studied measure, queer and prim. 

Now untouched the keys lie hid ; 
Silence sleeps beneath the lid, 
And the voiceless spinet seems 
Haunted with refrains of song, 
That to other days belong 
And eloquent of olden dreams. 

"Music has its foundation in the heart of 
nature. Wherever there is life, there is vibration, 
and wherever there is vibration there is some 
principle of music. Music is the sweetness of all 
sound. The art of music is the distillation of this 
sweetness from the ruder elements. Music is a 
language of moods ; it conveys more directly the 
emotions of humanity than any other form of 
human expression. A man's true character is 
more distinctly shown in music than in any other 

"Art is the mechanical expression of human 
thought and emotion. The Germans have called 
a musical composition a 'tone-picture.' The re- 
lation is good, but the comparison inadequate. 
A painting and a musical composition are as 
different as is a statue and the living being. 

"Music is a part of life, not a lifeless imitation. 
The highest form of music is the direct expression 
of individuality. It is the vibration of musical 
sounds in perfect sympathy with the vibrations 
of emotions. The color of the mood must, by 
sympathy, color the tone. 



21 I 

•' Individuality is as necesaary to music as life 
is to the body Life is not the outcome of form, 
but form is" the outcome of life. Musical forms 
are created by the composer, and are the outcome 
of emotions, which must have a form through 
which they must find expression. You can never 
give that which you do not possess. No amount 
of practicing will make a musician of any note, 
unless the individuality is developed and taught 
to express itself. A great musician must be a 
great character. 

" Life is but a grand symphony, full of joy and 
full of sorrow ; discord follows discord with a 
progression wonderful and incomprehensible. 
All that is. is grandest music, if our hearts could 
only hear. 

FOREEST CHENEY, in " Chips." 


A chiel's amang ye takin' notes 
And, faith, he'll prent it." — Burns 

New York City. April 1. 1895. 

The most brilliant operatic season that the 
metropolis lias ever known is now a matter of 
history. For thirteen weeks, beginning in 
November last, the Italian and French Company 
of Abbey & Grau composed of some of the most 
illustrious singers of the world, held complete 
sway at the Metropolitan Opera House, and de- 
lighted the musical and fashionable world with 
the artistic excellence and the elaborate magnifi- 
cence of their performances. From the very 
opening night, when " Romeo et Juliette" sang 
to the^world ''their old, old story," until the 
curtain was drawn upon the closing scenes of 
Goethe's " Faust," not a really false note was 
struck in the grand artistic ensemble. Twenty 
operas in all were produced during the season. 
Of these only two, " Falstaff," and " Elaine," 
were absolute novelties. Two others, " Manon " 
and " Samson et Dalila," were only comparative 
novelties, for they had been heard in New York 
before. It is undeniable that Yerdi ruled the 
day, with some leaning also towards the French 
school, but it was equally noticeable that the 
German school, with the great Wagner, was al- 
most entirely unrepresented, one single work 
only. "Lohengrin," redeeming the Vaterlancl 
from musical oblivion. It seemed especially ap- 
propriate, therefore, to read the announcement 
at the close of the Italian Opera triumphs, that 
our gifted young American Impressario, Walter 
Darnrosch, would give a short season of Wagner's 
operas in German, beginning towards the end of 
February and lasting for four weeks. 

On the evening of February 25th the season was 
begun before an immense audience with Wagner's 
" Tristan and Isolde," Frau Rosa Sucher appear- 
ing as Isolde, Frl. Maria Brema as Brangaene. 
and Herr Max Alvary as Tristan. Following 
closely upon this glowing, passionate love song 
came the other masterpieces of the famous com- 
poser, — " Lohengrin," " Tannhauser." " Die 
Walkure," "Siegfried." " Die Gotterdamerung," 
" Die Meistersinger," — all the beautiful links that 
form the golden chain of the mystical Niebel- 
ungen Ring. And, as the dying notes of the 
swan are proverbially the sweetest, so it was that 
with both the Italian and the German Opera 
seasons, the closing nights of each being the most 

In the case of the first named, you will remem- 
ber that on almost the last night of the season 
Yerdi's latest work, "Falstaff," was produced 
after numerous postponements, delays, and dis- 
appointments. But how truly was it worth 

waiting for! What freshness, sparkle and spon- 
taneity, all the more remarkable when you 
consider that the composer has passed beyond 
the allotted three score and ten, aye, even beyond 
the four-scoie milestone in his life's journey ! 
Produced at Milan in 1892, this opera met at once 
with immense success. From the very opening, 
the great Verdi seems to say, "Let us be happy 
and gay ; away with dullness and care," and the 
rising curtain discovers the Fat Knight in the 
Garter Tavern Inn, surrounded by his trusty 
companions, Bardolph and Pistol. A moment 
later we are transported to the garden of Ford's 
House, and here aie Mistress Ford and Mrs. Page 
and Dame Quickly, all " Merry Wives of Windsor." 
And so the brilliant comedy goes on, and 

" Love like a shadow flies when substance love pursues, 
Pursuing that that flies, and flying what pur ue s ." 

The cast for this production was no less 
brilliant than the opera itself. M. Victor Maurel 
appeared as Sir John Falstaff, the role created by 
himself, and was perfection in the part. Mine. 
Emma Eames was a revelation to us as Mrs. Ford, 
and revelled in the comedy scenes with the ease 
and abandon of a finished comedienne. Mile. 
Zelie de Lussan was a delight to the eye as 
"Sweet Anne Page," and Mme. Scalchi was ex- 
cellent in the amusing part of Dame Quickly. 
At the fall of the final curtain, one of the most 
enthusiastic demonstrations ever witnessed in 
the Opera House took place. The artists weie re- 
called time after time, and flowers, bouquets and 
wreaths were showered upon the stage in almost 
reckless profusion. As the immense audience 
reluctantly left the Opera House, one thought 
was uppermost in the minds of all : " Viva 
Yerdi ! Yiva Italia ! " 

Quite as brilliant a scene as the one just de- 
scribed witnessed the closing nights of the 
German Opera season. The occasion was the 
celebration of Herr Max Alvary's one hundredth 
appearance as Siegfried, a role created by him on 
the stage of the Metropolitan Opera in November, 
1887. Perhaps no better comparison could be 
made between the Italian school of Yerdi. and 
the German school of Wagner, than to contrast 
" Falstaff" and " Siegfried." The one is a bright, 
gay comedy, breathing in every note of the 
sensuous amours of the fat Sir Knight. The 
other is tragic in the extreme, with mystical and 
legendary romances that concern the gods, not 
men. The climaxes of " Falstaff" are most 
ludicrous, and they find the "gay deceiver'" 
either smothered in a buck-basket or dancing 
with the fairies in Windsor forest. The climaxes 
of "Siegfried" are most awe-inspiring and the 
death of Sieglried is perhaps the most over- 
whelmingly dramatic scene ever conceived by 
human intelligence. And this leads me to say 
that the greatest difference perhaps between the 
Italian and French operas and the Wagnerian 
operas presented this winter is that the first 
named are mainly historical and romantic, while 
the works of Wagner are almost entirely legendary 
and mythological. In fact, he chose 'the myth, 
because he believed that in the legends of nations, 
the heroic characters most suited to a perfect 
musical representation were oftenest found. He 
was influenced in this idea, perhaps, by the Greek 
Theatre, which he strove to emulate, for he had 
been able to see from the works of iEschylus and 
Euripides how closely the relations had been 
established between the lyric stage and the 
people. It was his conviction of the great musi- 
cal and dramatic value of the myth that caused 
him to say : "In this and all succeeding plans, I 
turned for the selection of my material once for 
all from the domain of history to that of legend." 
The regular season of the German Opera "closed 
on the 23d of March, but yielding to numerous 
requests for a few performances at popular prices. 



oh the same plan as was followed with the Italian 
Opera, the management gave three extra per- 
formances with the same casts and company and 
with the same orchestral and scenic arrangements 
as prevailed on regular nights. The operas 
selected for this supplementary season were 
"Lohengrin," "Die Walkure," and " Tann- 
hauser." The public testified to their apprecia- 
tion of the courtesy by their liberal patronage, 
and it is safe to say that hundreds of persons 

were thus enabled to see one or two of Wagner's 
great musical dramas for the first time in all 
their lives. 


Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, 
Wherein he puts alms for oblivion." 

While place we seek or place we shun, 

The soul finds happiness in none 

But with a God to lead the way 

'Tis equal joy to go or stay." — Madame Glion. 

The Sunday Laws in Con- 
necticut have dwindled from 
THE LAST OF the Old Blue Law times to 
THE the present day; but three or 

BLUE LAWS, four such statutes were em- 
bodied in the revision of 1887, 
and the last of them are 
being repealed by the present Assembly, One of 
the last repeals permitted any Justice of the 
Peace having personal knowledge that a person 
was guilty of drunkenness, profane swearing, curs- 
ing, or Sabbath breaking, to render judgment 
against the offender without previous complaint 
or warrant. Another bill that has been reported 
from the Judiciary Committee, is to repeal the 
ancient statute denying the right of the swearer 
or Sabbath breaker to carry his case to the higher 
courts. This almost smacks of Russian temerity. 
Since the general revision of the statutes in 1808 
there have been liberalizing tendencies. The 
fine for not attending church under the revision 
of 1808 was fifty cents, but this was repealed in 
1814. Children under fourteen years of age were 
to be punished Jby their parents for profanation 
of the Lord's day, and a fine of fifty cents was 
imposed upon any parent neglecting duty in this 
respect. Idling in public inns after sunset, 
Saturday nights, was not permitted by a provi- 
sion adopted in 1702. The law regulating the sail- 
ing of vessels on Sunday, practically prohibitive, 
was adopted in 1715. No vessels were allowed to 
sail out of any port or harbor in Connecticut, or to 
pass by any town or society on the Connecticut 
river, on Sunday, where there was public wor- 

The general revision of 1838 dropped a good 
many of the old provisions, but sports, games, 
play, and recreation on Sunday were prohibited. 
Provision was then made for the carrying of the 
mails on Sundays. The courts of the State 
wrangled until 1850 over evidence admissible with 
regard to intent of riding on Sunday. The let- 
ting of a carriage for charity was permissible. 
Down to the general revision of 1866, tythingmen 
were allowed to be appointed annually by the 
churches, with power to bring offenders against 
the Sabbath laws to the courts. Meddlesome 
ministers and neighbors have frequently resorted 
to the statute just repealed by the present 
Assembly, for purposes of spite and revenge ; and 
an instance occurred in Southington no later 
than the first of January, which led to its repeal. 
There has been some effort, this session, to abolish 
the laws practically prohibiting the running of 
Sunday trains for excursions ; but this is one of 

the Sunday laws that Connecticut people revere ; 
the Consolidated road has always opposed Sun- 
day excursions. In the old days when a single 
car was run through to New York, the manage- 
ment discouraged local traffic on Sunday, by 
charging as much for a way-ticket as for one to 
the metropolis. 

There has been no disposition here, as in Massa- 
chusetts, to abolish the Fast day appointed by 
the Governor ; for over a century Good Friday 
has been observed as the annual Fast day. It is 
but just to say that these relics of Sabbath ob- 
servance have been retained on the statute books, 
not from choice or desire, but by reason of 
neglect of the people to ask for changes more tol- 
erant. The action of the present Assembly will 
place Connecticut on a par with other states in 
liberality. The day of the old Blue Laws has 
passed from our fair land ; and only our true 
Connecticut blood retains its ultramarine or ceru- 
lean hue. ALGERNON. 




The January meeting of the 
Society was entertained with 
a paper by Hon. Morris W. 
Seymour, of Bridgeport, on 
the "Hiding of the Charter." 
The reader reviewed the 
legendary stories, as well as 
ail known facts relative to that event, and por- 
trayed the character of Captain Joseph Wads- 
worth, showing his bold and daring spirit. After 
the reading, both gentlemen having expressed 
their willingness, it was voted that Mr. Seymour's 
paper and the paper recently read by Dr. Hoadly 
on the Hiding of the Charter should be both 
printed in an early publication of the Society. At 
this meeting, Dr. George Leon Walker presented 
a beautiful set of views of Hertford on the Lea, 
England, recently sent to him by Canon Wool- 
more Wigram, of St. Andrew's, Hertford. This 
presentation will serve to further strengthen the 
friendly ties existing between the senior and 
junior Hartfords. 

At the opening of the February meeting, the 
president announced the recent death of Hon. 
Bobbins Battell, of Norfolk, a former President 
and Vice-President of this Society. The paper of 
the evening was by Rev. George Leon Walker, S. 
T, D., on the Old Hartford Burying Ground, giv- 
ing an historical description of the ground from 
the time of its first use for burial purposes, men- 
tioning some of the notable people who lie buried 
there, calling attention to its present condition, 


21 X 

and ending with a plea for an increased general 
interest in its care. Dr. Walker strongly ad- 
vocated the clearing away of the row of dilapi- 
dated buildings at present standing between the 
old ground and Gold street. 

Those present at the March meeting were 
much interested in a paper read by Rev. Joseph 
W. Backus, on Rev. Samuel Nott, D. D., of 
Franklin, Conn., which not only portrayed Dr. 
Nott himself, but sketched the life of a New 
England country pastor a century ago. The 
president made the pleasing announcement that 
the fall text of volume three of the society's col- 
lections was in print, and only the printing of the 
prefatory pages and index and the binding were 
needed to complete the volume. 



The annual meeting was 
held on the evening of 
November 26, 1894. Reports 
of various officers showed 
that the society was in an in- 
creasingly prosperous condi- 
tion since the acquisition of 
itsnew building. The growth 
of the library during the year past was particu- 
larly noteworthy, the accessions numbering 460 
volumes and 118 pamphlets. The following 
officers were elected : President, Hon. Simeon 
E. Baldwin ; vice president, Eli Whitney ; secre- 
tary, Henry T. Blake; treasurer, Dwight E. 
Bowers. Mr. Thomas R. Trowbridge, for many 
years the efficient secretary, declined a re'- 
election, to the unanimous regret of the society. 

The following papers have been read at the 
monthly meetings : 

November 26, " The New Haven Green as a 
Political and Civic Forum ;" December 31, " The 
English Commonwealth," by Rev. Burdette Hart ; 
January 19, " The London* County Council,' 1 by 
George L. Fox ; February 25, " The Four Letters 
from a citizen of New Haven, published in 1788 at 
Paris, in Mazzei's Historical and Political Re- 
searches, in regard to the United States," by 
Hon. Simeon E. Baldwin. 


The Connecticut Society of 
the Sons of the American 
SONS Revolution, celebrated Wash- 

OF THE ington's birthday for the 

AMERICAN sixth time, by a dinner at 
REVOLUTION. Norwich. The members of 
the Israel Putnam branch of 
the Society of Norwich, were 
the hosts of the occasion. During the morning 
the guests enjoyed the hospitalities of the Arca- 
num Club and' had an opportunity to visit a 
special exhibit of paintings and colonial and rev- 
olutionary relics at the Slater museum. In the 
exhibit were included portraits by John Trumbull 
and Major Andre's letter to General Wash- 
ington : 

Tappan, Oct. 1, 1780. 
Sir : Buoy'd above the terror of death by the 
consciousness of a life devoted to honourable 
pursuits and stained with no action that can give 
me remourse, I trust that the request that 1 make 
to Your Excellency at this serious period and 
which may soften my last moments, will not be 
rejected. Sympathy towards a soldier will surely 
induce Your Excellency and a military tribunal to 
adapt the mode of my death to the feelings of a 
man of honor. Let me hope, sir, that if aught in 
my character impresses you with esteem towards 
me, if aught in my misfortune marks me as the 

victim of policy and not of resentment, I shall 
experience the operation of these feelings in your 
breast by being informed that I am not to die on 
a gibbet. 

I have the honour to be Your Excellency's 
most obedient and most humble servant. 
John Andre, 
Adj. Gen. to the British Army. - 

His Excellency General Washington. 

The dinner was served in Lucas Hall at 1.30 p. 
m. and about two hundred members were pres- 
ent. Grace was said by the chaplain of the 
society, the Rev. E. H. Lines, of New Haven. 


Blue Point Oysters. 

Radishes. Bouillon. Olives. 

Boiled Kennebec river Salmon, Egg Sauce. 

New Tomatoes. Celery. 

Roast Turkey. Fillets of Beef. 

Rice Croquettes. Potatoes. Cranberry. 

Marmalade. Peas. 

Chicken Salad. 

Roman Punch. Cigarettes. 

Fruit. Cake. Confections. 

Neapolitan Ice Cream. 

Coffee. Crackers and Cheese. Cigars. 

While the dinner was in progress, a large dele- 
gation from the Faith Trumbull branch of the 
Daughters of the Revolution appeared in the gal- 
lery and was received with applause. 

After ample justice had been done to the menu, 
President Jonathan Trumbull called the assembly 
to order and introduced Dr. Robert P. Keep, who 
welcomed the guests in behalf of the Israel Put- 
nam branch. 

Judge Nathaniel Shipman. of Hartford, a son of 
Norwich, spoke with filial feeling to " The Old 
Town of Norwich." He opened by saying : " No 
man can do justice to Norwich ; few men will 
undertake to do it, if they do. they will fail." 

President Timothy Dwight of New Haven, also 
a son of Norwich, responded with delightful 
humor to ''Good Old Yale." "In the revolu- 
tion," said he, "Yale gave about one quarter part 
of all her graduates and students from 1765 to 
to 1781 to the American army." 

"The Revival of Patriotism," was the subject 
treated by Colonel Norris G. Osborne, the brilliant 
editor of the New Haven Register. 

Colonel Jacob L. Greene, of Hartford, read a 
scholarly paper on "The Duty of the Sons." 

Mr. Walter Learned of New London, the poet, 
spoke to "The Day We Celebrate." 

Captain Henry Goddard, a son of Norwich, 
formerly of Hartford, now of Baltimore, re- 
sponded felicitously to "The South in the Revo- 

Mr. Bernard C. Steiner of Baltimore, but a son 
of Connecticut, librarian of the Pratt Free 
library, answered a call from the president. In 
the course of his answer he observed: " I have 
always felt that my two states of Connecticut and 
Maryland were states which on several occasions 
had lacked only one virtue, the virtue of self-pro- 

The Hon. Edgar M. Warner of Putnam, made an 
appeal for the purchase and preservation of Put- 
nam's Wolf-den. 

The auditors indicated their pleasure by punc- 
tuating the remarks of all the speakers with fre- 
quent and hearty applause. The singing of "My 
Country, 'tis of Thee," closed the exercises. 

Some hundreds of essays written by pupils of 
the schools of the state of Connecticut in compe- 
tition for prizes offered by this society, have been 
received by the committee. It is expected that 
the prizes will be awarded on the anniversary of 
the battle of Lexington. 

2I 4 


The chapters of the State 

wer? summoned to Meriden 

SOCIETY January 4, and assembled in 

OF THE the First Church. The at- 

DAUGHTERS tendance numbered several 

OF THE hundred, and the hospitality, 

REVOLUTION graceful, particularly, if it is 
IN proper to make a discrimina- 

CONNECTICUT. tion, in the presence of a 
quartette of singers who, 
in giving old and new 
patriotic songs, brought out great enthusiasm. 

Several subjects were introduced. One, the 
consideration of nominations of officers of the 
National Board, and for the office of State Re- 
gent. Another was a call for interest and actual 
investment in the Nathan Hale homestead in 
Coventry. This gave rise to the consideration of 
historic localities, and the attention paid to 
them. We learned of the interesting work of the 
Anna Warner Bailey Chapter of Groton and Ston- 
ington, in restoring and equipping, with a 
museum of relics, the Monument House, adjacent 
to the Groton Monument, which is dedicated to 
the heroes. of the Fort Griswold massacre. The 
building was opened on the 113th anniversary of 
the battle. 

January 4th was the day for a regular meeting 
of the Ruth Wyllys Chapter. The occasion was 
marked by the address of Rev. Dr. George Leon 
Walker on the " Old Hartford Burying Ground." 
It was written and printed in the hope that inter- 
est to improve the surroundings of the place 
might be aroused. The plan suggested is to pur- 
chase the strip of land called Gold street, " lucus e 
non lucendo " make a wide thoroughfare from Main 
to Lewis streets, giving a fine view of the park, 
and disposing of some most unsightly buildings. 

At this meeting delegates were appointed to 
represent the Chapter in the Continental Con- 

This, the fourth of its kind, met in Washington, 
February 19, continuing through February 22. 

The term of office of the State Regent having 
expired, Miss Susan B. Clark, was elected to the 

place. The new regent is from Middletown, 
where the first chapter in the state was organ- 

Mrs. Keim, the retiring regent, was elected to 
the office of first Yice-President-General on a 
board of twenty. In a bright, patriotic address 
at the Congress she reported thirty-two Chapters 
in the state with a membership of 1.385 out of a 
national membership of 8,076, still holding her 
own as the banner state. 




The Third General Court 
of this Society will be held 
at the Connecticut Historical 
Society's rooms in Hartford, 
on Wednesday, May 1, 1895, 
at 3 o'clock in the afternoon, 
being the 258th Anniversary 
of the First General Court of the Colony of 
Connecticut held at Hartford on the first day of 
May. 1637 (0. S.), at which time the Sovereignty 
of the Colony was first asserted by the formal 
declaration of war against the nation of the 
Pequots. The annual election of officers, three 
successors to the members of the retiring class of 
the Council, and the Committees on Membership 
and Historical Documents will be held on this 
occasion. The meeting will adjourn in time to 
permit gentlemen to dress for dinner, which will 
be served at the Farmington Avenue Casino. 



When found, make a note of." — Capt. Cuttle. 

" It is a very sad thing that nowadays there is so little useless information." — Anon. 

(In this department we propose to give genealogists a 
chance to settle mooted questions that arise in their researches. 
As space is valuable, a nominal charge of twenty-five cents 
for each query and its answer will be made, — neither to 
exceed ten lines. We welcome queries, notes on genealogi- 
cal finds, new sources of data, and wish to keep a list of all 
genealogies in preparation by our readers.) 

Abbott. — For this name see Hinman's " Puritan Settlers of 
Connecticut," Bond's " Watertown," (Mass.,) and "The 
Abbott Family" (1847). Robert Abbott came from England, 
to Watertown, thence to Watertown (Wethersfield,) Conn., 
1641 ; juror in Hartford same year. Was a freeman of New 
Haven, 1642, and had land laid out in Branford, lived in New 
Haven till May, 1645. Name of wife and order of children 
unknown. Records of Branford taken to Newark, N. J., in 
1665 and lost. 

Seth Abbott, (supposed 'grandson of Robert the first, and 
probably a son of John or Daniel,) married, removed to Corn- 
wall, Conn., and had Selah or Seeley, Nathan, Abel, Solo- 
mon, a son Seth or Samuel, Daniel, Sarah, and a daughter 
name unknown. The son Seth or Samuel is probably your 
ancestor, or the daughter name unknown may be Susannah. 
Seeley Abbott has descendants near Canistota, N. Y., of 
whom you can probably learn the facts. 

Baldwin. — Perhaps it may interest you to know that a 
bill is at present before the Legislature of the State " To estab- 
lish Historical Localities." It is known as " Senate Joint 
Resolution No. 56," and |is now in the hands of the Senate 

Judiciary Committee. A bill to mark forts and block-houses 
of early settlers prior to 1783, has passed the Pennsylvania 
legislature, and that body is now considering a proposition to 
expend $300 each in placing monuments upon the site of 
some 200 which have been selected by their commission 

Henry Baldwin, New Haven, Conn. 

Batterson. — Mary (Seeley) Battterson, I think, is 

probably daughter of Nathan and Deborah Seeley of 

Weston, Fairfield County, but am not certain. Would like 

to know if I am correct, and to know descent of her husband. 

Mrs. Clara Seeley Prince, 

28 Vernon St., Hartford, Conn. 

" My grandfather, Lebbeus Swords, married Reuamah 
(Ruhamah), Batterson, May 30, 1792. She was born Octo- 
ber 23, 1765, and died July 9, 1835 ;" was buried at Milltown, 
Putnam Co., N. Y., (near Danbury, Conn. > Can you inform 
me where she was born and where married. I think some- 
where in Fairfield County. 

J. F. Swords, 80 State St., Hartford, Conn. 

Benjamin. — A descendant of Samuel Benjamin, senior, of 
Granby, Conn., informed the editor that he died in Granby 
in 1833 aged about 85, when he was a Rev. pensioner; and 
the easiest course to secure data is to write to the Pension 
Office, Washington, D. C, for a certified copy of all pension 
data relating to him which will be received as authentic by 
the S. A. R. The Rev. Roster of Conn., gives his services, 
but this is not exactly what is wanted. 



Blakesley. — Birdseye. — Camp. — Francis. — Wanted, — 
Names of children of Samuel Blakesley, an original proprie- 
tor of Guilford; also of Eben. Blakesley, born 1664— Who 
was Rhoda, wife of Nathan Camp (4\ of Milford and Dur- 
ham, Joseph (3), Nicholas (2), Nicholas (1). Who was 
father of Joseph Francis of Wallingford, who married Sarah 
Hubbard June 8, 1726; first child Joseph, Jr., born June n, 
1728. Maiden names of the two wives of John Birdseye (4), 
Abel (3), John (2), John (1); Stratford records say 
" Hannah;" Middletown, "Sarah." He first appears in 
Middletown, 1734. Was second wife a Curtis ? 

Mrs. G. W. Curtis, Hartford, Conn. 

Chapman. — "I would say for those interested in family 
records and genealogies that the kindred roots of family 
names, (as carried through the various languages of Europe, 
etc.,) are often found under their proper heads in Webster's 
Unabridged and also in Prof. Whitney's Century Dictionary. 
This idea may help some in tracing out genealogies in all 
lands and in past ages. Aaron B. Chapman. 

51 Hurlburt St., New Haven, Conn. 

We never think of beginning a genealogy without first 
tracing the origin of the name in such works, also in Lower's 
" Patronymica Britannica," Wright's '" Dictionary of Obso- 
lete Words," Sir Isaac Taylor's works, " Names and 
Places," etc., and many more. 

Edwards. — As a descendant of Jonathan Edwards's 
aunt, Ann, can you tell me where I can find data showing 
which of Richard's wives she was from ? She married Jona- 
than Richardson, of Coventry, Conn. 

F. L. Hamilton, Meriden. 

She was daughter of the first wife, viz.: Mary, Timothy, 
Abigail, Elizabeth, Ann, Mabel, and Martha. Six more 
children by second wife. 

Edwards. — There has been for many years a large up- 
right brown stone near the grave of Brainerd, to his 
"betrothed." I send you a copy of the inscription: 
" Jerusha, daughter of Jonathan and Sarah Edwards, born 
April 26, 1730, died Feb. 14, 1748. ' I shall be satisfied 
when I wake in thy likeness.' " The graves are in the old 
Northampton burial ground. 

Thos. Bridgman, Northampton, Mass. 

Farrand. — In a history of Norfolk it is stated, says a cor- 
respondent, that the Rev. Daniel Farrand, of South Canaan, 
was very kind to the Norfolk settlers, assisting them in 
various ways before they had a pastor, and helped organize 
their church, 1758-9. The Editor would like the names of 
his mother and grandmother, the wives of Nathaniel Farrand, 
Sr., and Jr., of Milford, Conn. 

Hale. — The only connection that I remember of the Hales 
with the Millers was in this way: David Hale (son of Jona- 
than, of Samuel, of Samuel), was born June 11, 1727, married 
Mary Welles, and had a daughter Mabel who married Elijah 
Miller, all of Glastonbury, where some of the grand-children 
of Elijah and Mabel (Hale, Miller still live." 

Edward White Hale, Wethersfield, Conn. 

Miller. — Ancestors of Rev. Samuel Miller, pastor of 
Baptist Church, Wallingford and Meriden 23 years, whose son 
Rev. Harvey, filled same pulpit 18 years. Rev. Samuel had 
nine sons of whom Joel was father of Edward Miller, of Meri- 
den; Rev. Samuel and Rev. Thomas, were sons of Jacob 
Miller and Eliz. (Fyler) of East Hampton, L. I., of Revolu- 
tionary times. Can Jacob be traced to the first John who 
came from Lynn, Mass., to East Hampton. 

Mrs. E. C. B. Curtis, Hartford, Conn. 

Peck. — Sanford. — Dickinson. — Dayton. Name and an- 
cestry of wife of William Peck, born Hartford, 1686, son of 
Paul and grandson of Deacon Paul. Her name is given as 
Lois Webster, but this is probably incorrect. Name and 
ancestry of wife of John Sanford, Jr., (born New Haven, 1710) 
son of John Sanford and Hannah. Ancestry of Michael 
Dickinson of Litchfield, who married Abigail Catlin in 1765, 
daughter of Thomas and Abigail (Bissell) Catlin. Name and 
ancestry of the wife of Isaac Dayton, born 1720, died 1800, 
son of Isaac and Elizabeth (Todd) Dayton, and grandson of 
Isaac Dayton. Guy D. Peck, Greenwich, Conn. 

Sanford. — If the gentleman inquiring about the Atwaters 
will write Hon. W. C. Atwater, mayor of Derby, Conn , he 
may find what he seeks. There is also an Atwater family 
history which is scarce, and considerable about them in the 
Tuttle Family. The Editor of Notes and Queries, has col- 
lected considerable as to the English Atwaters, as they came 
from Kent, were near neighbors of, the Hales, and inter- 
married with them. The Atwater book and Tuttle book have 
no answer to your query. We think it must have been 
Sarah, daughter of either John or Moses Atwater, of Walling- 
ford. The Sanfords are given very fully in Todd's Redding 
and Mrs. Schenck's Fairfield, but no Mabel.— Editor. 

Shepard. — As to the queries, when in a magazine like 
yours, they are perpetual. I have had letters in answer to an 
advertisement that was fifteen years old. In Wallingford, 
the other day, I found that a Dr. John Hull had sons John, 

Peter and Nimrod, names corresponding with three of the 
names on Hospital Rock. James SnErARD,New Britain. 

Mr. H. P. Hitchcock informed us that Jeffrey 0. Phelps, 
Senior, of Simsbury, was a Hospital Rock patient. — En. 

Tuttle. — Can you trace the ancestors of Cecilia Moore, 
the wife of Timothy Tuttle, of Whippany, N. J., to deter- 
mine if she has any " Dame of the Colonial period in her suf- 
ficient nose, to admit my daughter into the Society of the 
Colonial Dames." 

Rev. Joseph Farrand Tuttle, 

Ex-Pres't. Wabash University, 

Crawfordsville, Indiana. 


The Arms Publishing Co. is meeting with a ready sale 
for its " Continuous Family Genealogy" from all parts of the 
country, which shows that the importance of keeping family 
records is being more thoroughly realized, and that the sub- 
ject of genealogy is becoming interesting in increasing ratio- 
everywhere. There is a demand for a practical and con, 
venient book for permanent records, and this work meets all 
requirements. Their advertisement will be found on the 
front cover. 

"Brook Farm, Historical and Personal Memoirs," by Dr. 
John Thomas Codman. (Arena Publishing Co , Boston>, 
treats of the famous Brook-Farm experiment in communism, 
at West Roxbury, Mass., of George Ripley, Nathaniel Haw- 
thorne, Dr. Codman and others. We have had accounts in 
brief, or incidentally, of this undertaking, but nowhere has it 
been treated so fully or so carefully as in this book. It was 
in no sense a failure, for as the late George William Curtis 
said; "It is to the Transcendentalism, that seemed to so 
many good souls both wicked and absurd, that some of the 
best influences of American life to-day are due. The spirit 
that was concentrated at Brook Farm is diffused but not 
lost." The author of " Margaret Salisbury " adds: " It is a 
history that every thinking mind must value. Those noble 
souls who formed the little colony had the just idea; they 
lived a generation or two ahead of the masses. The trend of 
humanity is in their direction." We cannot help thinking 
that if the experiment were tried to-day again, it would suc- 
ceed, with as good men at the helm: Ripley, one of the 
early editors of the Tribune, the veteran Dana of the Sun, 
Dwight, of " Dwighfs Journal of Music," Curtis, and 
several others. It was here " the embattled farmers stood, 
and fired the shot heard round the world," in oui own day 
and generation, — the most marvelous markmanship of the 
present century ! 

We are indebted to the Board of Education for its report 
for i894-'95, one of the most thorough and comprehensive 
state reports on the subject of education we have ever seen. 
It is very full on library, kindergarten and normal schools, 
manual training, private schools, and even cooking schools, 
proving that our Board is fully abreast of the times. It is 
to be commended for the interest taken in libraries. 

Dr. Hoadly's latest addition to the archives of our Com- 
monwealth has been received: " Records of the State of 
Connecticut, 1776-1777." This is the first of a series that 
will be carried down, probably to the time of the State Con- 
stitution, 1787, according to an act of the Assembly, if health 
and strength are given to the doctor to complete his task. 
Dr. Hoadly was born in 1828, graduated at Trinity, 1851, 
studied law but never practiced, and forty years ago, this 
April, began his duties as State librarian. In that time he 
has edited the New Haven Colonial Records (1638 to 1665 in 
two volumes, and the Colonial Records of Connecticut, vol- 
umes 4 to 15 (1689 to 1775), which was completed in 1877. 
The present volume is especially valuable to all who are 
looking up the services of Revolutionary ancestors. 

" Stephen Lincoln, of Oakham, Mass. ; His Ancestry and 
Descendants," compiled by Mr. John E. Morris, of this city, 
is a little volume of over 100 pages, giving portrait of Stephen 
Lincoln from a pencil sketeh, and pictures of his old home- 
stead at Oakham. He was a soldier in the Revolutionary 
war. Mr. Morris's plan is to trace the Lincolns of Hingham 
down to Stephen, then all the maternal and intermarried lines 
of his ancestry in all directions, tracing back from him to the 
first settlers and many lines running into the old country. 
Part II is devoted to the descendants of Stephen to the pres- 
ent day. In this " hour-glass " way, a genealogy maybe 
compacted into 100 pages, without attempting to give all the 
descendants of an emigrant ancestor, which is a voluminous 

task. The blanks prepared by the editor of this department 
are peculiarly fitted for this method of compilation. Mr. 
Morris is a veteran compiler of genealogies, — the " Bontecou 
Genealogy " in 1885, " The Ancestry of Daniel Bontecou " in 
1887, the " Resseguie Family" in 1888, (all old Huguenot 
families , and the " Felt Genealogy," 1893, as well as the 
present work. He is singularly well adapted to this work, 
which fills up a great deal of his leisure, being a thorough, 
painstaking, and untiring delver into antiquity, and his 
works are marvels of system and precision. 


For the remainder of the year, we shall publish; (not necessarily in the following order however) : 

SHORT BEACH AND "THE BUNGALOW," by Gardner A. Reckard, 

the artist, who will write of this favorite resort of New Haven and Meriden people, and illustrate it 
with some of his own paintings, including a fine frontispiece, and charming interior views of the 
" Bungalow," the summer home of Mrs. Ella Wheeler Wilcox. 

CANTON, by Hon. William Edgar Simonds. 

This graphic paper will delight all residents of Canton, the author's summer residence, with which 
he is familiar in all its aspects. 


the well-known editor of the Norwalk Gazette, Washington correspondent, etc., who will describe 
Norwalk of which he is the recognized local historian. 

CLINTON, by Miss Ellen Brainerd Peck, 

the poet, who will portray in a pleasing style, this modest and picturesque shore resort; it will be 
illustrated by fine prize views taken by the Rev. C. E. Barto, of Clinton. 


Strong Bartlett, 

late of New Britain, details the reminiscences of her great-grandmother, who lived in Farmington 
and died a few years since at an advanced age. It gives a full insight into curious Colonial and 
Revolutionary customs, and will prove very interesting. 


the historian of Windham County. This letter, dated April 13, 1784, affords another quaint glimpse 
of Revolutionary days, and, like its predecessor, will be welcomed by all antiquarians and historians. 

THE "HENRY LEE" ARGONAUTS OF '49, by Frank Lorenzo 

of Meriden, comes down almost to the present day, and treats in a pleasant, humorous manner of a 
party of gold seekers who went around the "Horn" in 1849, including some notable Hartford and 
Meriden people. It will be illustrated with portraits. This will be followed at a later date by 

THE "WIDE AWAKES" OF '61, by Major Julius G. Rathbun, 

of Hartford, who was one of the original members and lieutenants, and accompanied this now 
historic party on all their patriotic forays and merry outings. 


of Hartford, the Nestor among Hartford musicians, who has for a long time been preparing this 
interesting series of papers, which will commence in our Midsummer issue. He is peculiarly fitted 
for this work and with him it is truly a labor of love. It details the old days of psalmody, the 
introduction of instruments, (the spinet, harpsichord, virginals,) the quaint customs of old choirs and 
singers, and is replete with anecdotes and reminiscences of all the old musicians which he has care- 
fully treasured. 

MEMORIES OF MERIDEN, by Mrs. Frances A. Breckenridge, 

of that city, a facile and interesting writer, favorably known for her historical and antiquarian con- 
tributions to the local press. It will be splendidly illustrated by fine views of the "Silver City." 

POMFRET, by Hon. John Addison Porter, 

editor of the Hartford Daily Post, who has promised a paper on his picturesque summer home in 
Windham County. 

The present serial features will be continued during the present year, viz : 


of which the third paper, by Mr. H. W. Benjamin, will include "The Pope and Pond Parks," and 
the fourth, by Mr. James Shepard, "The Reskrvoir Park," to be concluded with a final paper by 
Judge S. W. Adams. 


will soon complete the Hartford list, and then be transferred to some other city. 


will continue the amusing exploits of our trio of artists in traversing the State. 


will grow more interesting as it advances, giving the pathetic careers of Aaron Burr and his beautiful 
daughter, Theodosia. 


will increase in interest as it becomes localized in this State and present many amusing episodes. 

In addition we shall publish Sterling Stories, Pleasing Poems, Atpractive Departments, Full 
Reports of Societies and Schools, and numerous other new features. 







219 Asylum St., 











(Late Wm. H. Post & Co.) 

Vice=Pres. and Sec. 

(La'e with Ronx & Co., 5th Ave., 
New York. 


(Late Brown, Thompson & Co.) 

Carpets, Draperies, 
Lace Curtains. 

To Furnish your House Well, 

Is more a matter of good taste and good judgment than 
a lavish expenditure of money. 



New Stores : 2 1 9 Asylum and 1 5 Haynes Sts. 

Please Mention The Connecticut Quarterly. 





Excursion Tickets sold claiiy at Station of Phila. 
Reading and Central N. E. R. R., Hartford, good ow all 
Passenger trains leaving Hartford, for one or more 
passengers stopping at Tower Station ; where conveyance 
one-third of a mile, will, if desired, be furnished to 

TICKETS, 75 Cents both ways. 
Children, 50 Cents. 
Including Tower Conveyance from Station to Tower, 
10 cents. 

Wednesdays and Saturdays, cheap days. Excursion 
Tickets, go cents. 

Excursion Tickets also sold including Old Newgate. 

M. H. BARTLETT, Prop. 

McLean Seminary, 


" Shall we send our girls away from home to be educated? " 
This is a question which arises annually in the heart of 
many a parent, anxious for the best future of the child. 

This query is not confined to those living at a distance 
from good schools. There are reasons why home, with all 
its advantages, is not always the best place for study; and 
parents often see the wisdom, sometimes the necessity, of 
sending their children away. 

In America, the demands of society commence almost with 
childhood. Our youths must have their parties and recep- 
tions, receive and return calls, do their part in mission and 
church work, assist in fairs, festivals and amateur theatricals, 
attend concerts, lectures, and often theaters, operas and 

This constant interruption of study, and the great draft 
upon time and strength, break up all system and defeat the 
purpose and plans of the wisest teacher. 

The frequent failure of health among young ladies is not 
alone due, as sometimes asserted, to over pressuie of study, 
so much as to the attempt to combine a course of study 
with society life. 

With regular habits of study and recreation, plenty of 
out-door exercise, pure air, wholesome food and sleep, a 
large amount of work can be accomplished with no danger 
to health. 

The McLean Seminary offers advantages of a Superior 
Home School. 

For Catalogue giving full particulars, address; 




Liquid Pfant Food— Odorless— 

Easily Applied. Very 


This article comes in liquid 
form and a small application every 
two weeks makes a wonderful 
change in appearance, besides in- 
creasing the blossoms. Ask your 
florist for it. 

Lucien Sanderson, 

Sole Proprietor, 





The Prison and Convict Caverns are wonderfully in- 
teresting. Experienced attendants, accommodations for picnic 
parties and good tennis court. Beautiful views from observa- 
tory covering a distance of seventy miles. 

It is probable that a room of the old keeper's house will 
be devoted to a collection of valuable relics pertaining to the 
prison and revolutionary war. Everything will be done this 
season, to make it pleasant for visitors. 

Excursion Tickets will be sold from Hartford to parties 
of four or more, at a low rate, including R. R. fare, admission 
to Bartlett's Tower, admission to Newgate, and conveyance 
to and from Tower to Newgate. It is expected that trains 
will stop at Copper Hill on the Northampton Div. of the 
N. Y. N. H. & H. R. R. during the season, a short walk 
from Newgate. 

People wishing a complete history can secure one by 
sending jq cents to the proprietor. Also souvenir books 
of sixteen views at 25 and 50 cents. 

For further particulars, address: 

S. D. VIETS, Prop. ; 


Please mention The Connecticut Quarterly. 



Many of the illustrations found in this issue are 
selected from the territory traversed by the Philadel- 
phia, Reading & New England Railroad. 

If you contemplate summering in the country you 
will find that for health, pleasure and convenience 
Litchfield County and the Southern Berkshire has 
no equal. 

For a list of hotels, boarding houses, etc., procure 
a copy of our summer home book, containing up= 
wards of 60 illustrations giving all information. The 
summer home book will be ready for free distribu* 
tion at city ticket offices after April 16th, or will be 
mailed on receipt of 4 cents postage to 

Gen'l Passenger Agent, Hartford, Conn. 






of business, The Phoenix ilutual Life Insurance Company 

of Hartford, Connecticut, is Stronger, Safer and Better than 
ever before. 

Do not insure your life until you have seen our liberal 
contracts, embracing Extended Insurance, Loan, Cash and Paid-up 
values. The most liberal contracts issued by any life insurance com- 
pany in the world. For sample policies, address the Home Office, 

Hartford, Conn. 

Jonathan B. Bunce, President. 

John M. Holcombe, Vice-President. 

Charles H. Lawrence, Secretary. 

Please mention The Connecticut Quarterly, 


The Springs 

of Connecticut, 

Highland |^|SII(2^\ Water. 

Has never failed to prove its value when used 
according to directions. 

Note this Comparative Analysis. 

Highland Tonica 

The Human Blood 

Contains in its natural state : 

in its natural state contains : 

Potassium, Lime, 

Potassium, Lime, 

Lime, Magnesia, 


Phosphoric Acid, Iron. 

Lime, Magnesia, 


Phosphoric Acid, Iron. 

A. W. K. NEWTON, M. D :— 

"I have advised it for a large number of my patients. The effect has 

been wonderful." 

Highland f^^ 


)CJK Watei% 


Is the purest ever analyzed. 


The Tonica Springs Co., 



T. SISSON & CO., Main St. 

Please mention The Connecticut Quarterly. 

The Life and Endowment Policies 



of Hartford, Conn. 

Hre the Best SUS' 

Non= Forfeitable and World=Wide. 


REGULAR LIFE. — The original and commonest sure way of leaving one's heirs in comfort 
instead of destitute. Even a mechanic can easily leave a fair estate behind him. 

LIMITED=PAYMENT. — Concentrating- payment into the working years of a man's life, and 
leaving him free from worry even if he is helpless. 

REGULAR ENDOWMENTS.— Pajable to the insured himself after a term of years, or to 
his family if he dies before the end of the term. The only means by which most 
men can save money for themselves. 

ANNUITY PLAN. — Cheapest of all, and the only sine way of furnishing a regular income. 
Applied to either of the other forms. Principal sum payable in installments instead 
of in a lump, either to the insured (if Endowment) or his beneficiaries. If desired, 
they will be written so that in case of insured's death btfore the installments are all 
paid, his beneficiaries will receive the value of the remainder at once. 

COMBINED LIFE AND ACCIDENT.— Combining any of these with weekly indemnity for 
disabling accident. 

Also the Largest Accident Company in the World. 

LARGER than ALL OTHERS in America together. 

ASSETS, $17,664,000. SURPLUS, $2,472,000. 

Paid Policy-holders, over $27,000,000— $2, 1 51 ,000 in 1894 alone. 

RODNEY DENNIS, Secretary. 

Most of them have been here 







c-~ S-Sfe 

Hartford's Leading Business Men 










Antique and Colonial Designs 

N. B. — Special attention given to the restoration of Antique Furniture. 


205 JTain Street, 


R. S. & Co., Printers, Hartford, Conn. 

Vol. i 

July, Aug., Sept., 1895 

No. 3 

W' -' 

Clinton, Canton, 

Norwalk, Historic Homes, 

Highland Park, Trio and Tripod, 
Ella Wheeler Wilcox and the 

The Henry Lee Argonauts of 1849, 

And other valuable and interesting 
historical matter. 

50c. a Year Hartford, Conn. 15c. a Copy 

Qmnecticut General 



ASSETS, January i, 1895, $2,702,953.23 

Liabilities, . . . 2,159,308.08 

Surplus to Policy-Holders, by Conn, and Mass. standard, . 543,645.15 

Of which $289,548.69 is a special reserve due to Savings 
Endowment Policies. 

THOMAS W. RUSSELL, President. 

F. V. HUDSON, Secretary. 

White Oak. 


N. Y. & N. E. R. R., and Central Railway and Electric Co. 

Picnic Grounds for Sunday Schools. 

< > 

An admirable place for Sunday- School Picnics— Boating, Swings, Flying Horses, Photo. Gallery, Restaurant, <fcc, &c. Large 
and Beautiful Grove. Ample accommodations for all. Special rates made for Excursion Parties from all pomts on the New 
England Road. Apply to Local Ticket Agents. Electric Cars from New Britain, I'lainville and Berlin. Fare, 5 Cents. 

. . . THE ... I 

Connecticut Quarterly. \ 

An Illustrated Magazine. 

Devoted to the Literature, History, and Picturesque 
Features of Connecticut. 



gj) 66 State Street, Courant Building, ^n 

(g) Hartford, Conn. ^ 

(^ Geo. C. Atwell, General Manager. W. Fakrand Felch, Editor. @) 



July, August, September, 1895. 

No. 3. 

Frontispiece. "Ships that Pass in the Night." . 

Bungalow Bay. From a painting by Gardner A. Reckard. 

Ella Wheeler Wilcox and the Bungalow. 

Illustrated from paintings by Gardner A. Reckard. 

Sea Glow. Poem. . 

The Henry Lee Argonauts of 1 849. Illustrated. 

Clinton, once Killingworth. Illustrated. 

Canton. Illustrated. ...... 

Trio and Tripod, hi. To the Hartlands via Newgate. 

Bits from Great-Grandmother's Journal. 

A Tribute to our Dead Poets. Poem. 

A Letter from a Repentant RoyaUst. 

Old Time Music and Musicians. 

A Midsummer Dream. Poem. 

Ancient and Modern Norwalk. Illustrated. 

Historic Homes, in, Homes of State Craft. Illustrated. 

Highland Park, Manchester. Illustrated. 

A Day Dream. Poem. Illustrated. .... 

Scrope; or the Lost Library: Serial. 

Gardner A. Reckard. 



F. C. H. WendeL 228 

Frank Lorenzo Hamilton. 229 

Ellen Brainerd Peck. 233 

Hon. William E. Simonds. 239 

George H. Carriiigton. 250 

Mrs. Ellen Strong Bartlett. 265 

Louis E. Thayer. 270 

Ellen D. Lamed. 271 

N. H. Allen. 274 

Willard Warner. 28(> 

Hon. A. H. Byington. 281 

W. Farrand Felch. 288 

Marie De Valcherville. 298 

Clement C. Calverley. 302 

Frederic Beecher Perkins. 303 


The Round Table The Editor. 307 

Every Man an Antiquity. — Love of Nature. — A Word of Praise. 

Treasure Trove. ....... "Algernon." 310 

The Half-way Covenant. — Connecticut Historical Society's Collections. — The Connecticut Society 
of the Sons of the American Revolution. — The Loyal Legion. — The Society of Colonial Wars. — 
Connecticut Historical Society. , 

Sociology and Civics. ..... "Solon." 313 

Connecticut Humane Society. — " The Fabian Essays." — The Messiah of the Apostles. 

Notes and Queries. ........... 313 

Copyright 1895 by The ConnecticutQuarterly Co. {All rights reserved.^ 
Entered at the Post Office at Hartford, Conn., as mail matter of the second < |ss 


For the next issue we beg to submit the following " Menu" : 

MEMORIES OF MERIDEN, by Mrs. Frances A. Breckinridge. 

The well-known writer, " Faith," of the Meriden press, will deal in a bright gossipy style with the 
" Silver City," in its early days, down to the last generation. 

PICTURESQUE POMFRET, by Hon. John Addison Porter, 

editor of the Hartford Post, who has kindly consented to give a graphic survey of the town he has 
chosen for a summer home. 

THE HARTFORD PARK SYSTEM, IV, The Pope and Pond Parks, by 
Mr. Howard W. Benjamin 

will resume the story of our picturesque chain of parks, illustrated with photographs by the author, 
and several drawings by Mr. Geo. F. Stanton, of Hartford. 

TRIO AND TRIPOD, by George H. Carrington, 

his facetious chronicle of our artists' pilgrimage will bring the party down the Connecticut Valley from 
Harlland to Bristol. 

THE WIDE AWAKES OF i860, by Major Julius G. Rathbun, 

of Hartford, one of the prime movers of this historic company, will detail its amusing history. 


will be continued down to more recent days, treat of the introduction of musical instruments and the 
inauguration of church choirs. 

YALE BOYS OF THE LAST CENTURY, by Miss Ellen D. Larned, 

will give extracts from some amusing college journals of the last century which prove that " Boys will 
be Boys," and were even in the old days. 

OLD COLONIAL CHARACTERS, by " Felix Oldmixon," 

will develop the romantic career of Aaron Burr and his beautiful daughter, Theodosia. 

-THE GIRL FROM MASSACHUSETTS," by Miss Pauline Phelps, 

of Simsbury, is a pathetic little story of admirable local coloring, written especially for our pages, by 
this clever young writer, which will be welcomed by her many admirers. 


will be a welcomed addition, to be followed later on, by other articles on this enterprising little city. 


during the coming year; and finely illustrated articles will be presented, by Miss Ellen Strong 
. Bartlett, Hon. John Addison Porter, and others are promised. 

The usual Departments, Poetry, " Scrope," and other interesting features, from time to time, will 



The Connecticut Quarterly. 

Leave not your native land behind." — Thoreau. 


Vol. i 

July, August and September, 1895. 

No. 3. 


To a native of Short Beach, one of the most familiar questions propounded 
by the visitors to that breezy retreat is the query, " Where is the Bungalow ? " 
This question from young and old, women and men, romantic misses and 
hard-featured elderly persons who would not be suspected of sentiment, 
indicates that all sorts and conditions of men and women are interested in the fair 
mistress of the Bungalow, and are curious to see the manner of house she inhabits. 

And surely few poets enjoy so ideal a home, with environments so 
inspiring to the muse, so artistic to the eye, so restful without a chance for a 
dull moment. But, before we enter the great stone gates, with their guardian 
griffins of bronze, it would be well to mention, parenthetically, that Short 
Beach is blessed in its location and in its public spirited and vigilant residents ; 
there are no saloons, tramps, loafers, billionaires, or other public nuisances. 
The town is situated on a picturesque horse-shoe of golden sand, studded with 
bold rocks of pink and gray. On the west are the highest cliffs rising directly 
from the water, on the Atlantic coast from Key West, Florida, to the Thimble 
Islands. Midway between the points of the horse-shoe, is situated the Wilcox 
estate, and having passed the gates we enter Bungalow Court. 


The Bungalow, like a great pelican perched upon its rocky home, has for 
its companions four cottages on the shore side of the lawn, like a row of 
" Mother Carey's chickens." These belong to the Wilcoxes, and are cosy cots, 
named " Sea-lawn, Mid-lawn, Rock-lawn and Oak-lawn," and are occupied by 
people of the literary, musical and artistic world who thus share a part of the 
Bungalow life ; their relations being fraternal rather than financial. It is there- 
fore a frequent occurrence for them to meet in the Bungalow and to contribute 
to the general fund of amusement, by music, song and the other accomplish- 
ments, and to join in the impromptu dances which almost nightly, in the height 
of the season, are liable to occur. 

Imagine a great leviathan, stranded upon a pebbly beach, around which 
remnants of a former forest grew, with green grass almost to the water's edge, 




and a bay of sapphire stretching before you for a mile, where it is merged into 
the darker waters of the sound. Consider, then, the rock upon which the 
Bungalow is built as that leviathan ; upon its gray back stands the house 
twenty-five feet above the water. The winds buffet it, and the angry waves 
thunder in impotent fury against its rocky base, the hurricanes lash it with the 
spray of the surf in vain. From the windows of the house you can look out, 
on stormy days, as you might from the windows of a light-house, observing the 
tremendous workings of the sea and wind. In stormy weather, one hears 
musical notes swelling like an organ through the wind-harps swinging in the 
breeze, then as they madly turn they blare as the wind increases, a strange 
weird accompaniment to the shrieking demons of the storm. 

The front of the house faces the bay and sound to the south, and is reached 
by steps cut and built in the rock, or on the east side by means of a natural 
stair-way of rock which was left without any artificial touches, and with the 


22 I 

rugged storm-torn cedars clinging in the crevices. The Bungalow was built, so 
to speak, by letter, Mr. Wilcox being absent. The writer of this article, who 
superintended the construction of the building, was happy in having a man of 
Mr. Wilcox's artistic temperament as a coadjutor; consequently not a tree was 
cut down, nor a rock chipped or blasted that was not actually in the way. 

People living inland can hardly estimate the value of a tree at the sea-side, 
where their growth within a few feet of the salt water is so much retarded by 
storms and salt spray : so trees and sea and rocks are quite a precious and in- 
frequent combination on the water's edge. Crossing the verandah, you enter 
the house through an oak Colonial door, with its quaint fastenings and latch ; it 


is as sound as the day it was made in Branford, one hundred years ago. If I 
were to pen a verse to place above this door, I should write, — 

"Abandon care, all ye who enter here." 

Having reached the old door, we give two or three resounding thumps on 
the old knocker, and if we listen will surely hear a cheerful, awe-dispelling voice 
bid us enter; and we raise the latch and find ourselves in a large room, full of 
vivid oriental color. Yes, the poet is in her " corner " and comes forward. She 
is a woman of gracious mein ; she is clad in some diaphanous garment of East 
Indian fabrication ; the effect is oriental, but for her fair complexion, and the 
gold-red glint of the Anglo-Celt in the hair. You find that her greeting is 
oriental, too, for she and her genial husband are as hospitable as Arabs. She 
does not consider that a literary reputation should make one haughty and 
depressing to others, but lives up to her famous verse, — 

" Laugh and the world laughs with you; 
Weep, and you weep alone." 



And now that the introduction is over, you will doubtless find much to 
interest you in her abode, both in the plan of the interior, which is unique, and 
in the objects of art, curios, and books without number. You find that the 
room occupies nearly half of the ground floor, and that there is no ceiling to it ; 
that although the day elsewhere is hot and unbearable, owing to the presence 
of water on three sides and the lofty room with dormer windows as ventilators, 
it is delightfully cool in this house. The other rooms are of course ceiled, but 
the space above, opening as it does into the front and screened by great rattan 
portieres, precludes the possibility of heat. It is the coolest house on the 
Sound, by virtue of its construction, and location. 

No inky raven of insomnia to croak " Nevermore " above sleepless couches, 
on hot summer nights ! The brow is fanned by zephyrs and a musical cadence 
of the lapping waves is the lullaby that brings sleep, — deep as that of childhood. 
Even your conscience cannot keep you awake at Short Beach, ordinarily — in 
the Bungalow, never. A con- 
science is a needless thing 
there ; you might as well 
leave it in New York, Hart- 
ford or Boston, for all the 
good it would do you, for you 
could not live in the Bunga- 
low and be wicked or un- 
happy: the thought is pre- 
posterous ! You could not 
be an atheist, for no one 
would believe you or listen to 
you, in the presence of so 
much of God's creation ; nor 
extremely orthodox, because 
no one would want to die and 
risk the harp-playing of Jones 
or Deacon Smith, while they 
could lie here in a hammock 
and listen to that /Eolian 
harp ; nor swear, for there is 
no cooking, and so no flies ; 
nor covet your neighbor's 
property; nor steal — for you 
want nothing you haven't 

Mr. Wilcox has been a 
great traveler in many parts 
of the world, an indefatigable collector, and has many rare and beautiful curios. 
On one side of the big room, on a Navajo blanket, is a fine collection of 
American Indian relics. On the other, above a large and luxurious divan, is 
another of oriental arms and armor, — from a Damascus blade to a murderous, 
double-bladed dagger : curious wallets, with Mohammedan prayers on parch- 
ment ; a rug from inaccessible Thibet ; a strange little straw-and-wicker-gate to 
the stairway in the corner leading to the upper library, comes from Corea. 
Each corner, as well as each central panel, is instructive; over the piano a 
Bedouin tent ; the south-east corner is the poet's own, containing a desk and 
a great inkstand that holds a quart: she evidently believes in plenty of 
ammunition, but like a good soldier she does not waste it. 

A;t?*>-"4 .■-.-.. <.«_J 



«, . 1 

The writer's memory lingers around the great open fire-place, with its and- 
irons piled with huge chestnut logs, — drift-wood — that throws so radiant a 
light that the beautiful Viennese lanterns are extinguished in order that we may 
enjoy the genial glow the better ; perhaps the autumn wind may be wailing, the 
waves beating on the rocks with a sullen roar ; the small boats are safe behind 
the little break-water, the large ones, including the naphtha launch, " Robella," 
are anchored in the straits. All is snug alow and aloft, on sea and shore. 
Now, warmth and good cheer are at their height, for gathered around that glow 
are choice spirits of the literary or artistic world. Then it is that wit sparkles 
as it flies, and repartee from lip to lip is bandied like a shuttle-cock ; 
while droll humor eggs on wit; or, if the wind moans and shrieks more dole- 
fully than is its wont, and the drift-wood burns low and sheds a ghastly blue, 

then perchance 
some actor -friend 
may tell us some 
ghostly story that 
chills the marrow 
and makes our 
nervous friend 
throw on a pine- 
k n o t after the 
climax is reached ; 
or maybe we hear 
the history of some 
book, old or new 

— how it went 
from publisher to 
publisher, from re- 
jection to dejection, 

— how all has 
changed and the 
publisher (the 
ruffian) now has to 
grovel in the dust 
before the superior 
genius of " so and 
so ;" or perhaps a 
thrilling yarn of 
the sea is told by 
some old "sea- 
dog ;" or it may be 
Wilder, doing the 
balcon y-s cene 
from Romeo and 
Juliet, from the im- 
provised balcony 
on the stairs. 

But, oh! the 
magnificent sun- 
sets from the verandah ; and the delightful languorous evenings, so frequent yet 
never commonplace, when the moon is more like a soft, subdued sun, so 
brilliant is it, and the gentle ripple made by the soft night breeze throwing a 
sparkle as of countless millions of diamonds in the moon's path. At such a 


Copyright, jSqj, by Rockiuood. 



time, we may be rowed by some sons of Neptune, or in the swift launch, while 
the mandolins and banjos make troubadour music, as we glide in and out 
among the enchanted islands. On this little peninsula, the spectator always 
has a view of the rising and setting of the sun and moon across the water, thus 
having the full benefit of the gorgeous colors repeated in the mirror of the bay. 

Naturally the Bungalow Hop is the event of the social season, by reason 
of the prominence of the hostess, and because there is an unusual number of 
dancing men present, which of course is proof positive that there is sure to be 
a bevy of pretty girls. One of Mrs. Wilcox's weaknesses is an extraordinary 
fondness for handsome girls, a fondness shared, as all of her pleasures are, by 
Mr. Wilcox — a reasonable weakness, a mild form of nympholepsy, most 
likely — shared too. by the writer, so he does not hesitate to appreciate the 
feast to the artistic eye which spreads itself through the Bungalow, on the 
spacious verandah and lawn, these " red-letter nights." The grounds are 
illuminated by a multitude of gay lanterns and colored fires. The wide 
verandah accommodates a swarm of brilliant dancers, as well as the Bungalow's 
great-room ; while the lawns are fringed with those who are not fortunate 
enough to secure the coveted invitation. 

Many visitors are here from the neighboring cities and from New York. 
During the evening it has become the custom to implore, inveigle, and cajole 
the poetess into danc- 
ing one of her graceful 
fancy dances. Mrs. 
Wilcox is a natural, 
easy dancer, and to 
that which nature has 
bestowed she has 
added art. The beau- 
tiful " fan " dance and 
other creations are 
wonderfully rendered ; 
we had expected to be 
pleased; we are 
charmed and agreeably 
surprised at the high 
technical excellence of 
her dancing. 

The little cove to 
the east of the Bunga- 
low, is at high tide the meeting-place of a swarm of good swimmers, of whom 
Short Beach has a large number. The poser and the girl who never wets her 
bathing suit, would be discountenanced here, where aquatic sport is a fact not a 
myth. Consequently the bathers are more than usually gay and good-humored 
as well as athletic, the girls not a whit less than the men ; and it is a pleasant 
sight to see frequent trials of distance-swimming by the latter. The writer has 
often accompanied Mrs. Wilcox and her swimming parties, and can vouch that 
as an amateur she is very expert. The swim to and from Green Island, a 
quarter of a mile away, and sometimes in rough water, is frequently made by 
her ; she has a very beautiful stroke, is an excellent instructor in the art, and 
she has converted all her young dryad friends into naiads. Old Neptune 
owes her a heavy debt. Short Beach is truly nymphiparous. There are 
more Lurlines, naiads and mermaids here than you could read of in Greek or 
German mythology. 

From a Painting by Gardner A. Reckard. 



The Illumination Night is an annual holiday, peculiar to Short Beach. It 
consists of a night and day, set by a committee of the Short Beach Association ; 
the night selected is one on which there is no lunar light. A programme is 
prepared and committees selected, for Amusement, Music, Yachting, Shore 
sports, and Finance. Boats and houses are covered with decorations, flags, and 
innumerable lanterns, which are kept in stock here and added to, year by year, 
by all cottagers. The yacht, naphtha, rowing, and swimming contests, are all 
for cups and prizes, presented by cottagers, including the Bungalow cups 
offered by Mr. Wilcox; the fine trophy of Mr. William H. Lockwood, of Hart- 
ford, for launches, is at present in the possession of Mr. Wilcox. These prizes 
are for the encouragement of local sports only, and are stimulating it greatly. 

The illumination commences at dark and is marvellous in its beauty. It is 
the transformation of a pretty little seaside town into fairy-land. It is the 
result of seven or eight years of growth and development of the idea, and its 
beauty is partly due to the natural features, — trees, cliffs, and water, which 
when lit by thousands of lanterns on the trees, houses, piers, boats and rigging, 
and the colored fires on the rocky shores and islands, form a scene of enchant- 
ment which attracts visitors "from all over the state. This is surprising in a 
place so small, but it is due to the harmonious efforts of all the cottagers. One 
of the events of last year was a creation of Mrs. Wilcox ; a Colonial Float, 
with the Goddess of Liberty (impersonated by a well-known society lady of 

From a painting by Gardner A. Reckard. THE STORM. 

New York, of superb Juno-like figure and face) surrounded by certain hand- 
some damsels who posed as the thirteen original states. 

Mrs. Wilcox can be described as neither a spasmodic nor a strictly methodi- 
cal writer. She is very industrious, and although she has no regular Medo- 
Persian rules as to time, she generally writes some every day. She works with 
great intensity and earnestness ; and what her literary conscience tells her has 
been neglected one day, she more than makes up the next day, being capable 
of rapid and effective writing under pressure of circumstances. She also 
possesses a happy faculty of concentration of mind, under conditions that 
would madden most persons. Ordinary conversation, music and laughter 
sometimes act as a stimulant. But at times, when some puzzling problems are 
disturbing her, I am sure that she is more often hindered than most writers are 
by well-meaning bores who unthinkingly or selfishly monopolize her valuable 
time by ill-timed or nonsensical conversation ; or by occasional boorish idiots, 


who allow their curiosity to drive them to the indecent act of peering through 
windows, as if at some wild beast show. She writes most frequently without 
the use of notes or books of reference, and what is written generally stands, 
without much, if an}*, change or correction. After a good bit of work is done, 
she rises contentedly, and is as happy and gay as a child, joining in any of the 
pastimes or pleasures of the moment, like the merriest idler of them all. 

But, before we leave this Arcadian retreat, let me describe our hostess to 
those friends who know her only through her writings. She is of medium 
height. The shape of her face is distinctly oval ; the complexion fair ; with a 
glint of red-gold in the waving hair; the eyes, deep topaz in their tinting, are 
at times dream}', but more often sparkling with vivacity and life ; their expres- 
sion is full of candor, and the}* indicate the directness of purpose which is one 
of her strong intellectual traits. Her nose is regular, mouth very mobile and 
prone to betray her man}- moods, the chin that of an affectionate nature. The 
head indicates more than the physiognomy a strong will, the love of approba- 
tion of her friends, strong social and friendly faculties, well developed as to 
individuality and the intellectual faculties ; a brain of good proportion and 
showing evidence of its fine quality ; her temperament is a blending of the 
mental, motive and vital, in the order named. Her figure is girlish in appear- 
ance, when clothed in her pretty dresses, designed by herself, and which permit 
the freedom of limb movements and quick motion characteristic of her. One 
would hardly guess her weight or strength, for her appearance does not indicate 
it. She is athletic, and believes in health, beauty and love, for women and men. 

Love is not more her theme in verse and prose than it is a part of her life. 
She is often called " the poetess of passion." But, I imagine that it is a pretty 
safe variety of passion ; for she holds to that beautiful old way of bestowing 
love's choicest gifts upon her husband, who most happily deserves every 
morsel. With some writers, marriage ends the love-story. To her mind it is 
the mere beginning. It was not she, most certainly, that first put the query, 
"Is marriage a failure?" and her life is a romance of love that answers the 
question in the negative, decidedly. 

Her husband is an inspiration to her ; he is an artist and poet at heart, 
although to the world he ma}* seem only a successful business man ; and many 
a fine idea of his is embodied in her verse and prose. But, I must not open 
the Bungalow door too wide, and disclose so manv of these secret little cabinets 
of the heart, even though Castle Wilcox is too new to have a delightful 
ancestral ghost, and has no spare closet for a skeleton. 



The sun has set upon our lee, 
And phosphorescent glows the sea ; 
As, leaning o'er the vessel's stern 
I watch the glittering waters turn. 

Thrown in our wake, they seethe and swirl, 
Like living flames they wreathe and curl ; 
Astern they stretch — a band of light 
That grows most strangely, ghostly bright. 

Dark is the sky and dark the sea, 
Save where this ghostly sheen we see ; 
It breaks upon the vessel's prow, 
And whirling, dashing, wildly, now, 

Along her sides it takes its way, 
A twirling stream of glittering spray. 
It lights the sea with golden sheen, 
That glimmers on the waters green. 

Dark is the sea, and dark the sky, 
Save that the myriad stars on high 
Would marshal all that gathered light 
To mingle with the sea-glow bright. 

The sky above, the sea below, 
Are lit with an ethereal glow, 
That softly glimmers on the main, 
Links sea to sky with golden chain. 

Calm reigns, the winds are all asleep, 
And not a breeze stirs on the deep ; 
While softly heaves the sea's long swell, 
As if bewitched by night's soft spell. 



During the year 1848, the "Letter from California" was nearly as much 
in evidence in our newspaper columns as are the features of Napoleon in 
current magazines. The American flag was hardly unfurled over this recently 
acquired territory before the providential man made his initial bow to an eager 
public, and the hand of William Marshall beckoned us to the entrance of the 
" Golden Gate." At once the cry was " California Ho ! " and even our steady- 
going young men of Connecticut abandoned for the time their " wooden 
nutmegs" to sit at the feet of golden eloquence. Occasionally a trite or 
waggish word of warning was inter- 
polated, only to be relegated to the 
position of an unheeded criticism : 

"Why seek far shores, 
For precious ores? 

To me the case is clear ; 
We need not roam 
At all from home — 

We've lots of 'owers' here." 

Among the many companies im- 
bued with the spirit of the time, was 
that of the "Henry Lee," organized by 
some of Hartford's representative young 
men, and recruited from the city and 
surrounding towns. After a lapse of 
half a century, it may prove interesting 
to recall the event which promised so 
well to the hopeful adventurers. The 
promoters were Philip Hewins, Carlos 
Glazier, Alfred E. Ely, Dean Alden, 
and R. Collins, (who subsequently 
dropped out,) but other enterprising 
citizens came forward and "The Hartford Union Mining and Trading Com- 
pany" was organized with the following officers : 

Directors: A. M. Collins, Hoyt Freeman, Charles T. Webster, Noadiah 
Case, and Ezra Clark. The directors to remain in Hartford County. 

Managers : Leonard H. Bacon, Hezekiah Griswold, Lorenzo Hamilton, 
Emerson Moody, Franklin Bolles, Erastus Granger, and Jared W. Smith. The 
managers to go out with the expedition. 

Griswold and Granger later resigned, and Captain David P. Vail was 
added, who was also master of the ship. The Rev. O. F. Parker accompanied 
the expedition for the benefit of his health. He later administered to the 
spiritual wants of his comrades, and we are sure he found "a change" if not 
"an easy berth." The statistics show that this company at least had organized 
upon a solid business and financial basis, having a capital stock, paid-in of 




thirty-seven thousand dollars. The report states "The ship Henry Lee was 
purchased and re-fitted for the expedition, and after proving to be of great 
antiquity, with rotten bottom, a miserable sailer, and having gone through the 
fiery elements, was freighted and made ready for sea." Later events would 
seem to indicate that natural Yankee shrewdness previous to purchase must 
have had much to do with this unflattering report. Provisions were laid in for 
two years, with all necessary mining implements ; the various tradesmen took 
full sets of tools, merchandise on consignment from stoneware to garden 
seed, together with boots, shoes and clothing, representing a total value of 
over fifty-four hundred dollars. 

Regulations as to the future discipline of the ship were not overlooked. Of 

the character of the company, a New 
York correspondent of the day writes : 
"I have never seen a more noble 
looking, intelligent set of men on 
board vessel. They are quite cheer- 
ful, and in conversing with several of 
their number, I could not discover the 
least disposition to ' back out." 
I The sun shone brightly on the 

morning of February seventeenth, 
1849, as those 128 sturdy souls 
(whose average age was only twenty- 
seven), representing all trades and 
H professions known, was cheered by a 
throng that crowded pier 4, East 
River, and weighed anchor for a hard 
six months' experience around Cape 
Horn to the glittering gold fields of 
the Pacific. We can hear them now, 
I as they sang their dedicatory song, 
lorenzo Hamilton. (written by R. A. Erving,) to the 

tune of " Old Virginny," while the steamer alongside swiftly towed them out 
into " the bosom of the deep :" 

" Our buoyant bark is striding now upon the waters free, 
With swelling sail and flashing prow, the stout old "Harry Lee;" 
Oh, may their music never cease, but still around us roar 
As she carries us o'er the mighty deep to California's shore." 

"There, in that glorious valley, where Jove rained his golden showers 
And each who will, may gain his share — we too will gather ours; 
And when the good old ship is filled — is filled with golden ore, 
We'll anchor weigh, and spread all sail, to see our homes once more." 

We gather from "The Henry Lee Journal," printed on ship-board, (when 
the weather would permit,) that their tune was soon after changed, and the 
later birth of the composer alone, prevented "The land-lubbers, go down 
below," from becoming exceedingly popular. Of their experiences on board 
we can only summarize from this mitltmn in parvo newspaper, the issues of 
which were distributed, preserved by many, and bound into an interesting little 
volume. Passing through the warm vapor of the Gulf Stream, to the music of 
"Flow gently, sweet Afton," the first heavy gales encountered made the 
Sabbath's services following, of decided interest, especially when, after the 



Inaugural Ball to the honor of "Old Zack " Taylor, the elements, without 
warning, combined with the " artillery of heaven " to unnerve the stoutest 
hearts, and left the good "Old Harry" partially dismasted by the lightning's 
stroke and for a time a helpless wreck upon the ocean. We can appreciate the 
pathos of the scene, when a few days later, upon the morning air swelled the 
well-known anthem, 

" Safely through another week, 
God has brought us on our way." 

The debating society which had been formed, " fully decided that the 
Government should restrict the free gathering of gold in California by 
foreigners," a decision from which we do not seem to have profited recently. 
Before sailing into the harbor of Rio Janeiro, their first landing place, the an- 
nouncement was made of the election by them of Col. T. H. Seymour for 
Governor by a plurality of one vote over the Hon. Joseph Trumbull, the Free 
Soil candidate; Hon. J. M. Xiles securing nineteen votes. We quote the 
following extract from the bill of fare, which was a very elaborate one : 

" Land-lubbers come and stay a week; 
We'll show you how to stuff the cheek. 
First, go below and see our toils, 
And have a finger in our broils. 

CHORUS : — " If mush runs low or dundyfunk, 
We eat our fill of cold salt junk, 
Or down to beans or lobscouse stoop, 
Or, lower still, to smoked pea-soup." 

, however, hardly agrees with a more 
letter lying before 

Cathedral attend- 
a vivid description 

The above parody 
menu given in a 
me. The strict attention to old New 
England Sabbath observance, has been 
noted, but the Rio Janeiro Sunday 
attractions on shore ( safe from watch- 
ful eyes), were too much for some of 
these young Puritans, and a passing 
notice of morning 
ance, is followed b\ 
of a Brazilian bull fight, patronized 
during the afternoon. 

Leaving the pleasures and courte- 
sies of this land of tropical beauty, 
after interviewing a friendly school of 
whales, they were soon in the enjoy- 
ment of an ocean-race with " The 
Elizabeth Ellen," which, with cruel 
boasts of superiority, and earlier ar- 
rival at the " Gate," had preceded our 
boys from New York bay, with 
" Yankee Doodle " sounding from its 
deck. After two or three days of 
exciting interest, the " Old Harrys " 

definite and dainty 


took a last triumphant glimpse of their rival, far in their vessel's wake. Other 
vessels, sharing the same fate, the " pride that goeth before a fall," found them 
baffled for forty days, in a wilderness of tempests and seas, before this 



unrealized, with short days and long nights, alike spent in treacherous gloom ; 
their only solace the thought that they survived, while others had found an 
involuntary port in vain attempts at " rounding the Horn." 

As the month of July finds them in the vicinity, plans are laid for a grand 
celebration of Independence Day, on the Island of Juan Fernandez. Old 
Neptune, however, interferes, but as the event on ship-board was the crowning 
one of the whole trip, it requires due notice, and the printed programme for 
the day follows : 

" National Salute and Ringing of the Bell at Daylight. President of the 
Day, L. H. Bacon. 1st, Prayer, by Rev. O. F. Parker; 2d, Songs for Fourth of 
July ; 3d, Reading of the Declaration of Independence, by Col. William B. 
Dickinson; 4th, Music by the Band; 5th, Oration, by Lorenzo Hamilton; 6th, 
Benediction, by Rev. O. F. Parker ; 7th, Dinner, Regular Toasts, Music, etc. 
Toastmaster, Capt. David P. Vail. 

Services to commence at half past ten o'clock A. M. ; A Gun at Sunset. 
Committee of Arrangements, E. Moody, L. Hamilton, L. H. Bacon. National 
Ball in the evening. 

The mature thought and patriotic inspiration expressed in the toasts, as 
reported, which we would like to quote, did not space forbid, cause a contrast- 
ing reflection upon the young men of the present day. Conquerors over many 
a hard experience, we soon find our friends outstripping the contrary elements, 
and skimming along under clear and favorable skies, turning their eager 
attention towards ample provision for future wealth. 

And now " The Temperance Club " swears a final pledge ; the ingenious 
have put finishing touches to numberless useless inventions ; the accounts of 
the Secretary have been audited and found correct ; and gliding by the drowsy 
seals, through " the Golden Gate," while the " Stars and Stripes " burst upon 
their view, the command is given, " Stand clear; let go anchor," and the sturdy 
young captain of thirty-two, turns to say, " Well, gentlemen, I have done my 
best for you." 

And what became of them all? 

Divided into companies of three or four, they hopefully started out, many 
to encounter sickness, and find early graves ; others to pluckily delve for a 
time and finally to join the ever increasing number of returning wanderers, 
some to settle down and call it " home ; " but few, we imagine, realized their 
early anticipations of a golden harvest. 

Lying high upon a San Fran- 
cisco water-lot, and used for a time 
as a storeship, where the city has 
long since encroached upon the 
bay, the hull of the old " Henry 
Lee " lies, lost to sight but not 
forgotten, in the arms of Mother 
Earth, while her gallant captain, 
surviving most of his fellow-voy- 
agers, and the last but one of the 
old-time whalers of sixty years | 
ago, hale and "young of heart as 
ever," can still be found " at the 
helm, entrusted with the savings, golden gate. 

and gifted with the esteem of citizens and friends, in the old home port of 
Sag Harbor — where he has at last chosen to cast his anchor. 



Thus came the jocund spring in Killingworth 
In fabulous days, some hundred years ago." 

— Tales of a Wayside Tnn. 

So sang the poet Longfellow, but the legend which blossomed forth at his 
touch into "The Poet's Tale," the years have almost folded within their silence, 
and it is now well nigh forgotten by those of the present generation whose 
ancestors founded Killingworth. 

Old Killingworth of those early times, appears to-day in a new garb and 
under a new name ; still, from amid the more modern surroundings, the face 
of the old town looks forth. It is said that men from Kenilworth, of the 
county of Warwick, in England, were among the first settlers, and Kenilworth, 


not Killingworth, it was at the very first. But, in the lapse of time, through 
the vagaries of spelling and pronunciation, the settlement came to be called 
Killingworth, as though it would be entirely new and independent even to 
its name. 

It was in the beautiful month of October, in the year 1663, that Killing- 
worth began its existence as a tiny settlement of twelve planters. Here, in the 
year that seem to us so long ago, Uncas, the sachem of Mohegan, hunted in 
the pine-clad stretches, and along the gently flowing streams glided his canoe, 



where the reeds and rushes that whispered in the river sedges were weaved 
into mats for Indian wigwams. It was this chief, and his son Joshua, who 
yielded up their birth-right to the men of Killingworth. The tract of land 
which became the site of Killingworth was known among the Indians as 
Hammonasset, which name a small settlement between Clinton and Madison 
retains to-day. The Indians remained in large numbers around Killingworth 
until about the year 1740. " Old Else," the last of her tribe, who lived here- 
about, is still remembered. 

It cannot cease to be a regret that the town of Killingworth, honored in 
poetic lore, ever changed its name to Clinton, as it did in the year 1838, when 
Old Killingworth separated from North Killingworth. The town of Clinton, 
lovely in its quiet scenery, looks off on as dainty a bit of water view as can well 
be found. The irregular, picturesque harbor, and the placid streams meander- 
ing through the adjacent, low-lying meadow-land, with the soft blending of the 


exquisite tints of land and sky and sea, give an almost dream-like beauty to 
the place. In the summer months, when nature revels in her vivid hues, all 
the scene glows in the warmth of brilliant color. 

The town itself, with clustering New England homesteads grouped about 
the churches and the school, gives evidence of quiet thrift, and brings that 
feeling of rest and peace, nowhere more apparent than in the calm atmosphere 
beloved by the Puritan forefathers. To look down the reposeful length of the 
Main street, that stretches from east to west, and that lies on the main road 
between New London and New Haven, makes it hard to realize that less than 
half a mile to the south is the harbor leading to Long Island sound, and this 
beauty of a sequestered inland village, breathed upon by the fresh air of the 
sea, gives a double charm to Clinton. This is the main street of the original 


village of Old Killingworth, and it is beautified by lofty elms whose over- 
arching boughs in the summer form a graceful leafy arcade. 

About here were granted the thirty rights, and these included the rights for 
the minister and the right for the " support of the ministry forever." The 
grant of land where the church was built became known as " Meeting House 
Hill," which name it retains to-day, and now as then, the typical New England 
church crowns its eminence. There is a monument on this hill which attracts 
the attention of the passer-by as to its significance. It commemorates the spot 
where a building stood in which young men received instructions from the 
Rev. Abraham Pierson, the first rector of Yale College. Mr. Pierson, who was 
pastor of the Killingworth church, at the time of the founding of Yale College 
at Saybrook, found it impossible to go to Saybrook to give instruction, so the 
youths came to him in Killingworth. Abraham Pierson further benefited the 
then young institution by a gift of books. The cemetery extends back of the 
Congregational church, and it contains many old stones, among them the one 


< * 


that marks the resting place of Rev. Abraham Pierson. To-day, there are four 
churches in Clinton ; but the larger portion of the community still clings to the 
Puritan faith. 

Clinton is divided by the Indian river, which crosses the main street near 
the business center. The agora extends its small business thoroughfare about 
and near "The Corners" — where may be met the individual pith of the New 
England character, in its quaint and indigenous quintessence. Here tread a 
modern school of peripatetic philosophers. A short way to the west, along 
the main street, are the original " Old Corners." On the site of one of the 
present corners once stood a tavern, at which La Fayette regaled himself on 
his way through the town during his second visit to the United States. 

Clinton is so quiet now, in respect to its traffic by water, that it requires 
some imagination to picture it as a busy little shipping-port, and to think of it 
as the locality of several prosperous ship-yards. This, however, is said to have 
been the case, in the last century and in the early part of this. Nearly all the 



young men in those days who did not till the land, in sailor phrase " followed 
the water." Near to the spot where the main street bridge crosses the Indian 
River, on the banks of this stream, were several ship-yards that launched from 
their ways many a staunch vessel ; and at this time, also, Clinton had her 
modicum of trade with the West Indies. The harbor which to-day is very 
shallow, was then somewhat deeper, and where the sand-bar stretches westward 

across the harbor 
a pier once stood. 
Cattle which were 
to be shipped 
were driven out 
at low tide across 
the flats to the 
vessels. How 
changed the scene 
to-day when near- 
ly all the boats 
that enter the 
harbor are pleas- 
ure yachts ; for 
the railroad has 
quite taken the 
place of the water- 

In the eastern 
end of the town, 
off from the main 
street, is the lower 

green, and here stands the old red brick academy, thrice rebuilded since Revo- 
lutionary times, that seems to tell anew the tale of "the battered desk, deep 
scarred by raps official." Now, this old schoolhouse remains silent and 
deserted alike by the surreptitious whisper and the merry, childish voice. 
The Morgan school, the gift of the late Charles Morgan to his native town, has 
for over twenty years taken its place. The majority of the houses in the 
village have an old-time look, and stand near the street. They are built in 
a simple style, with a plain exterior, breathing of the past as a page of bye- 
gone history, and neat and prim anear them glow, in the pleasant summer 
days, the old-fashioned gardens. 

In a fragrant garden, 

Filled with radiant bloom, 
Dance the ragged sailors, 

Waves the cockscomb's plume ; 


Here ablaze with color, 
A tall and stately row, 

Stand like gaudy sentinels, 
The holly-hocks ablow. 

On the brier-roses, 

Swing those murmurous guests, 
Laden bees a-crooning, 

On golden honey quests ; 


Among the gay nasturtiums, 

They hither, thither dart. 
Linger, musing lowly, 

Where droops the bleeding-heart. 

Doris, of the blossoms 

Is weaving a bouquet, 
Sprigged with coriander, 

And slim, green fennel spray. 

From this quaint old garden, 

Where, just as long ago, 
Stand, like gaudy sentinels 

The hollyhocks ablow. 

Although the town does not equal many another in the quaintness of 
houses, abounding in nooks and recesses, so inspiring to romance, yet it does 
possess the primness and prettyness of a neat puritanic village, and has a 
charming symmetry and regularity of streets seldom found in so small a place. 

In the war of the Revolution, Clinton bravely did her part and sent a 
regiment of men to aid in the victory. In the war of the year of 18 12, Clinton 
again resounded to the tread of martial feet, and in regard to this war there are 
many anecdotes, more or less amusing, or so they seem to us when listened to 
from the lips of the story-teller. In the Civil war, Clinton sent forth a goodly 
number of volunteers. 

There is a nook in Clinton that is rather apart from the rest of the town. 
It is reached by a narrow street, which was once a lane, that leads directly 
down to the water. Here is a small green, from which an unobstructed view 
of the sound may be had. This green is shadowed by elm trees, and about it 
are grouped a few old-fashioned houses. The spot is known as " Water-side." 
The grey stone docks, littered with their homely fishing gear, the boats swing- 
ing at their moorings, and the dilapidated time-marked bridge, whose founda- 
tion of unhewn stone was built in the latter part of 1600, all give an artistic 


^^mmmmmmmmf J - -■* 


: 3 8 


value to the picture. Off to the southeast, the salt meadow lands stretch away 
to the low bluffs that shelve to the sound's shore. On the bluff known as the 
Big Hammock, which is the eastern point of the harbor, the sachem, Uncas, 
reserved for himself six acres of meadow when he signed away his lands to the 
men of Killingworth. On the green at Water-side, in the war of 1812, a small 
fort was erected, known as Fort Constitution. Near by was the soldiers' 
barracks, and daily upon the green the boys in blue went through their drill. 

It was in this war of 18 12 also, that some British tried to enter the harbor 
in a long-boat, but they were discovered and fired upon. On this same green, 
long years ago, a little tavern opened its doors to the way-farer, and it was, no 


doubt, the gathering-place of many jolly tars. There was a ship-yard too, at 
Water-side, and the first vessel built and launched from there was of goodly 
size and called "The Rising Sun." Among the pretty and interesting nooks 
in the vicinity of Clinton is the vigorous little watering-place, Grove Beach, 
which has lately sprung into life. 

So Time, whose pinions are never still, has fluttered gently over the town, 
gradually obscuring old land-marks, and bringing into prominence the new. 
Tradition veils her face as the years go by, yielding more and more to the 
influence of the present, and the legendary romances and historical memories 
of Old Killingworth float back to us an echo from the olden days. 

Brought from the wood, the honeysuckle twines 
Around the porch and seems in that trim place 
A plant no longer wild ; the cultured rose 
There blossoms, strong in health, and will be soon 
Roof high ; the wild rose crowns the garden wall, 
And with the flowers are intermingled stones 
Sparry and bright, rough scatterings of the hills. 



In 1630 a group of English families under the pastoral charge of Rev. Mr. 
Warham came over the seas to this new western world. For six years they 
abode at the place which was thereafter called Dorchester and which is now a 
part of Boston. Then in the spring of 1636 they traveled through a hundred 
miles of the solemn forest shadows and settled in Windsor, where the waters 
of the Tunxis blend with those of the noble Connecticut. 

They were not slow to discover that the Tunxis was alive with salmon and 
that the " Falls," near the Tariffville of to-day, was the place of all others to 
take them. Sailing in canoes, on the smooth stretch of still water above that 




picturesque gorge, they found a broad open savannah on the west bank, with a 
certain fruitful vine growing there in wild luxuriance. Hopmeadow they 
named it on the instant, and Hopmeadow it remains to-day in the local ver- 
nacular, along with Terry's Plain, Weatauge, Westover's, Salmon Brook, and 
Turkey Hills ; Hazel Meadow and Meadow Plain are little known outside the 
old records. The Indian name of the region thereabout was Massacoe, and a 
tribe of gentle Indians of that name held here their peaceful sway. A dweller 



in Simsbury street has within late years named his place " Massacoe Farm " as 
all who pass on the railway may plainly see. 

Back of the savannah were great ranges of stately primeval pines, and 
straightway John Griffin, trader at Windsor, began to utilize them in the mak- 
ing of tar, pitch, turpentine, and candlewood ; no small business this, for as late 
as 1728 a thrifty minister, the Rev. Timothy Woodbridge, sent five tons of tur- 
pentine to New York at a single shipment. 

In 1648 Mannahooese, one of the Massacoes, kindled a fire which acci- 
dentally burned up some of Griffin's combustible goods ; Griffin haled him to 
court at Windsor and the gentle Massacoes made haste to ransom him by a 
conveyance of all the Massacoe lands, " all the land from the foot of the hills on 
both sides of the river up to the brook that is called Nod Meadow." Needless 
to say that the General Court subsequently confirmed this shameful transaction. 

Simsbury was incorporated as a town in 1670 "to runn from Farmington 
bounds to northward tenn miles ; and from Windsor bounds on the east, to runn 
westward tenn miles," a tract of land including the Canton of to-day ; and for 
the next one hundred and thirty-six years the history of 'Simsbury was also the 
historv of Canton. 


Six years later, Sunday, March 26, 1676, the cohorts of Philip, King of the 
Pequots, burned to the ground the forty dwellings the Simsbury settlers had 
slowly and painfully erected during the quarter-century that just passed, the 
occupants having fled to Windsor and to Hartford the day before. Before 
labelling this deed as an inexcusable atrocity it is just as well to re-read, with 
the eyes of the red man, the series of Indian events in New England which 



began with the ravaging of Block Island by the whites in 1655 ; and it may 
possibly happen that we may come to look at Philip's final stand in behalf of 
his race as a supreme effort of pure patriotism on the part of one of the great 
men of the earth, ending with undying glory in the smoke and flame of the 
great " Swamp Fight" at Narragansett. 

The next year after the incorporation of Simsbury, in May, 1671, it was 
voted, " to locate a meeting house at Hopmeadow," but it required thirteen 
years of controversy over the site — which was changed again and again — to 
get that meeting-house built. Finally the freemen met, and thirty-three of 
them signed an agreement which was placed on the public records beginning as 
follows : 

"May ye 7th, 1683. Whereas there has been a difference arising amongst us, concerning ye setling 
the place of ye meeting house ; that a setled peace may be obtained amongst us, to ye Glory of God, and 
the comfort of ourselves and ours, we whose names are unwritten do so agree and appoint as soon as 
may be comfortably obtained a day solemnly to meet together, in a solemn manner to cast lots for ye place 
where ye meeting-house shall stand." 


The next day "the lot that came forth was for ye west side of ye river," 
and there the meeting-house was built. The Rev. Dudley Woodbridge was 
ordained here November 10, 1697. The beef used on that occasion cost three 
cents a pound, the venison two cents, and the rum four and half pence a gill. 

In process of time the first meeting-house was found too small for the 
growing community, and in 1725 an agitation began for the erection of a new 
one, whereupon the old fight broke out anew and with tremendous virulence. 
This quarrel, like the first one, lasted thirteen years, and was finally settled by 
the division of the town into three ecclesiastical societies ; it estranged friends 
and separated families ; at one time the ministerial association suspended the 



administration of the Lord's Supper, and for three years the General Assembly 
refused to appoint any justices of the peace for the town. 

This bitter trouble was the occasion of the establishment, in 1736, of the 
Episcopal parish of St. Andrew's, whose church building is near the railway at 
the place long called Scotland and now known as North Bloomfield ; its first 
rector was the Rev. William Gibbs, who has left behind him a sainted memory ; 
but he fed four British soldiers who came his way a little before the Revolution 
and was taken to Hartford jail therefor, bound upon the back of a horse ; he 
was over sixty years old, and he slipped from his seat and turned so that his 
head nearly dragged upon the ground ; through carelessness or ugliness he was 
allowed to remain there so long that he became insane and died in that con- 
dition in 1777. 

This same quarrel over the building of the second meeting-house in 
Simsbury was the occasion of the settlement of West Simsbury, now Canton, 
which began in 1737. Before that date two places in that general locality had 


taken the names they bear to-day. " Cherry's Brook" and ''Cherry Pond," 
the latter of which has given the name to Cherry Park. These two places were 
so called from an Indian chief "Waquaheag" who lived thereabout, but who 
occasionally appeared in Hopmeadow and was there familiarly known as " Old 
Cherry," probably on account of his fondness for cherry rum. The first 
burying-ground within the present town limits is near the Canton Center rail- 
way station ; it is in a fair state of preservation, and it is to be hoped that at no 
distant date it may be re-adopted for the use of all the town, for which it has 
both historical and topographical fitness. 

The oldest house now standing in Canton is the so-called " Page Place," 
midway between Collinsville and Canton Village, built in 1747 by Benjamin 
Dyer, schoolmate of Benjamin Franklin. The next oldest, neighbor of the 



former, and the home of the writer, was built in 1756 by Thomas Dyer, son of 
the aforesaid Benjamin and grandfather of Thomas Dyer, afterward mayor of 
Chicago ; it has descended from the original builder through an unbroken line 
of the ladies of the family to the present owner, who is of the same gentle per- 
suasion. Its beams, as hard as iron, its floors put down with oaken pins, and 
its latch-bolts wrought by a skillful blacksmith and adorned with little brass 
knobs of the shape and size of a pigeon's egg, all attest its antiquity. 

The people of West Simsbury held religious services from 1741 onward, 
the beginning of the Sunday session being announced by the beat of the drum ; 
an ecclesiastical society was erected here in 1750, and the first meeting-house 
was built in 1763. In that year the society bought a pewter tankard and used 
it in the communion service ; it is in existence to-day and bears this inscription : 
" Tankard used in the Communion service of the society who built the first 
meeting-house at West Simsbury in the year 1763. Rev. Gideon Mills, 
Pastor." The tankard had a lid ; and each communicant drank from the top. 

The pews were deep 
square boxes and the pulpit 
was high in the air. No fire 
was had, summer or winter, 
but the well-to-do brought 
foot-stoves. A committee 
to seat the people in the 
order of their social rank was 
chosen by vote ; likewise a 
member to "tune the psalm" 
which he did with a pitch- 
pipe or a tuning-fork and a 
prolonged " do-0-0," in which 
the people joined before 
attacking the first verse. The 
attendants gathered during 
the noon-spell at a building 
hard by called the "cider- 
house," because it always 
held a barrel of cider free to 
all. Here they roasted the 
sausages they had brought 
with them, and with these 
and the doughnuts and the 
cider they fortified themselves 
against the afternoon freeze. 
Those who did not walk to 
church came on horseback, 
generally upon a pillion. 
Darius Moses owned the first wagon, one of the lumber-box variety, but he did 
not dare to ride to church in it for a long time, because the community thought 
it frivolous. Later on the singing was led by a violin, base-viol and clarionet, 
and the music for a long time was of a higher order than was common else- 
where. Down to a revival in 1783 this church lived under the Half- Way 
Convenant, which allowed church membership and infant baptism to certain of 
the unregenerate who acknowledged the covenant. 

The Rev. Jeremiah Hallock preached for this church from 1785 to his 
death in 1826, and the Rev. Jairus Burt, from 1826 to his death in 1857. Both 


CAXTON. 245 

were strong men ; they made their lasting impress upon the people; and it is 
doubtless due in some substantial measure to them that Canton has continuously 
produced a race of men among whom character has been the chiefest of 
earthly possessions. 

Canton was formally set off from Simsbury and incorporated as a town in 
1806, the name — meaning a "division of territory" — being suggested by 
Ephraim Mills. The town is about eight miles long, north and south, by four 
miles wide east and west, and has a population of some 2,500 souls. 

In the early days the largest number of houses was near the center of the 
town and came to be called Canton Center, but the most important highway in 
the old town of Simsbury, sometime the Albany Turnpike, with the Litchfield 
Turnpike branching off at " Suffrage" ran from east to west across the southern 
part of the present town of Canton ; on it at " Suffrage" (now Canton Village) 
was established in 1798, the first post-office in the town of Simsbury; and, as 

%|'| .. ; ■ 


a part of the Litchfield Turnpike, there was built across the Tunxis ( now 
Farmington ) river, the first town bridge in Simsbury, a mile north of the 
present Collinsville. 

This was a famous old highway, enlivened by many a stage-coach drawn 
by four or six horses, and made musical by the merry winding of the drivers' 
horns. At Suffrage, at the forking of the two turnpikes, there stood for more 
than a century, the famous Hosford Tavern around which hangs a grewsome 
story. During the Revolution, a French paymaster left Hartford for Saratoga, 
with his stout saddle-bags filled with gold for the payment of the French 
officers in the American army. He was traced to this tavern for a night's rest 
and no further. The inn-keeper always avowed that he departed safe and 
sound, but it was probably heavenward, for no evidence of lateral travel was 
ever found, and a discovery made after the tavern burned down a few years ago 
tends toward a belief in his murder. This incident endowed the highway with 
the legend of a ghastly phantom, a headless horseman to be met at night in a 

CANTON. 247 

neighboring pass where the trees shadow the road so completely that no sun- 
light penetrates even at midday. 

Near the south line of the town, Captain Fred Humphrey built a grist-mill 
in 1805, a saw-mill in 181 5, and within a few years afterwards four houses were 
to be found thereabout, including the not altogether reputable "Tim Case 
Tavern." In 1826 three young men, Samuel W. Collins, his brother David C. 
Collins, and their cousin, William Wells, came out from Hartford, bought the 
two mills with a few surrounding acres of land and began the manufacture of 
axes, each of the partners putting five thousand dollars into the enterprise. 
At that time no factory in the world made and sold axes as a business, and this 
undertaking was one of great audacity. Axes had been made by blacksmiths 
upon single orders and when an order was executed the purchaser had to spend 
half a day in grinding an edge upon his ugly looking tool. From the first, 
Collins & Co. put axes upon the market with an edge scarcely less keen than 
that of a razor and with side surfaces polished like a mirror. Not long before 
his death, Samuel W. Collins wrote out certain historical memoranda from 
which the following are extracts : 

" 1828. — Contracted with Oliver Couch to take his four-horse stage off the Albany Turnpike and run 
through Collinsville to Farmington and Hartford, and so got a post-office established at Collinsville. Built 
the first trip-hammer shop, etc. Commenced drawing axe-patterns, and making broad axes with trip ham- 
mers. Each man tempered his own, forging and tempering eight axes per day. 

"1829. — Built the first shop ever used for Lehigh coal fires. This was the first use of hard coal for 
this purpose in America. ****** 

" 1830. — Put up an office-building, a part of which was used as the only school for the children, as a 
public hall, and until 1836 the only church. ****** 

"1832. — Sold Sampson & Tisdale, of New York, thirty thousand dollars worth of axes — being the 
largest sale made at that time to any one firm. E. K. Root commenced work for us, and invented useful 
labor-saving machinery; he became our superintendent; and afterwards in 1849, went to the Colt's Fire- 
Arms Manufactory, of which company he succeeded, after the death of Col. Colt, to the presidency." 

From this insignificant beginning, a few men, making each eight axes per day, the business has grown 
in nearly seventy years into a stock company with an invested capital of one million, with a large surplus, 
employing 600 men, producing 4,500 axes and tools per day, besides a large number of steel plows and 
wrenches. The annual consumption of anthracite and other coal is 11,000 tons; of charcoal 30,000 
bushels; of steel, 1,100 tons; of iron, 5,000 tons; and of grindstones alone 600 tons, which are literally 
ground away in powder. 

The original partnership of Collins & Company became The Collins Com- 
pany of to-day ; Samuel Watkinson Collins was succeeded in the presidency by 
E. B. Watkinson, he by William Jackson Wood now deceased, and he by 
Edward Hale Sears, who holds the reins with a masterly hand to-day. 

The Congregational Church in Collinsville was organized with thirty-three 
members, June 25, 1832, "By Rev. Dr. Hawes, of Hartford; Rev. Mr. McLean 
of Simsbury ; Rev. Mr. Burt, of Canton, and the Stated Supply." Joel Hawes, 
Allan McLean and Jairus Burt — what a trio! The Rev. Joel Hawes was 
ordained pastor of the First Church in Hartford in 181 8 and remained such 
until his death in 1867; the Rev. Allan McLean was ordained pastor of the 
church of Simsbury in 1809 and remained such until his death in 1861 ; the 
Rev. Jairus Burt was ordained pastor of the church in Canton Center in 1826, 
and remained such until his death in 1857. Together they waged war against 
the cider-brandy distilleries to be found on every farm, at a time when common 
hospitality demanded the maintenance in every household of a sideboard filled 
with liquors free to all, and they shot out winged arrows against the institution 
of human slavery at a time when the cost of doing it was the loss of pew-renters 
by the score. They did other things, not of the church militant, lovely and 
lovable, over which the writer fain would linger. Chaucer knew just such a man 
as was each of these when he wrote : 

" He waytede after no pompe and reverence, 
But Christes lore, and his apostle twelve, 
He taught, but first he folwede it himselve." 



The Rev. Charles B. McLean, son of Allan, was ordained pastor of the 
church in Collinsville in 1844; the writer grew from childhood to manhood 
under his teachings ; his every sermon was a classic in style and in spirit a 
beatitude ; tenderness and reverence not to be expressed exhaled from every 
thought of him. 

The first name of Collinsville was South Canton and it took its present 
name against the wish and desire of Samuel W. Collins. That village — now lap- 
ping over into Burlington and Avon — lies upon the two sides of the Farmington 

Taken from the Place the Poem was Written. 

river between two mountain ranges, each of which offers a most engaging view 
of the settlement below. Rose Terry had her chamber eyrie upon one of these 
mountain sides. As she looked from her window she saw the village of the 
living at her feet and straight across, high up on the opposing mountain side, 
the village of the dead. And she wrote these lines with truth as well as grace : 

" Over the river, on the'hill, 
Lieth a village, white and still, 
All around it the forest trees 
Shiver, and whisper in the breeze; 
Over it sailing shadows go, 
Of soaring hawk and screaming crow; 
And mountain grasses low and sweet, 
Grow in the middle of every street. 

Over the river, under the hill, 
Another village lieth still, 
There I see in the cloudy night, 
Twinkling stars of household light, 
Fires that gleam from the smithy's door, 
Mists that curl on the river's shore ; 
And in the road no grasses grow, 
For the wheels that hasten to and fro." 



The town has seven school districts ; the Collinsville district maintains a 
graded school of six departments, with hundreds of pupils, the finality of which 
is a high school of which George W. Flint is principal. The high school 
graduates small classes yearly, but the graduates go to the various colleges and 
are never "winged" on their entrance examinations. 

Canton is not a showy town, but is emphatically one of substance. It is 
not in pressing need of the going reforms. Years ago the question of the sale 
of intoxicating liquors was taken out of politics and now it is not possible to 
drum up signatures enough to try on the question of license or no license in 
town meeting. Vote buying was never an industry there of any magnitude and 
to-day it is not an appreciable factor in any election. Canton has raised and 
sent out some useful and sturdy sons ; Owen Brown, descendant of Peter 
Brown, who came over in the Mayflower, and father of John Brown the Martyr, 
was born there in 1 77 1 ; he moved first to Torrington, Conn., where John was 
born, and then to Ohio, where he helped to build up the Western Reserve 
College, but when a negro applied for admission, and the trustees refused to 
take him in, Brown withdrew his support and helped to build up Oberlin. 
John Brown was 
a familiar sight in 
the streets of Col- 
linsville after the 
troubles in Kansas 
and until his sac- 
rifice at Harper's 
Ferry ; he had 
made there the 
pikes he used in 
his raid on slavery. 
Canton sent out 
the Rev. Heman 
Humphrey to be 
president of Am- 
herst College, the 
Rev. Hector 
Humphrey to be 
professor at Trin- 
ity and afterwards 
president of St. 
Johns College at 

Annapolis, the Rev. Dr. Selah Merrill to be archaeologist of the American 
Palestine Exploration Society, Solon Humphreys to be one of the chief builders 
of the Pacific railways, Merrill J. Mills to be Mayor of Detroit, Thomas Dyer to 
be Mayor of Chicago, and so on and so forth. Patriotism, stout and rugged as 
her hills, is native to the soil ; in the French and Indian wars from 1744 to 1763, 
Canton furnished twenty volunteers of whom eight died at Louisburg and 
Havana ; to the war of the Revolution she sent nearly eighty soldiers ; in the 
French war of 1798 she had Oliver and George Humphrey on board the U. S. 
frigate Constitution in the action with the French 74-gun ship La Vengeance ; 
to the war of 181 2 she gave fifty men, and to the defence of the Union in 
1 86 1 -5, at a time when her population was not more than two thousand, she 
contributed two hundred and eight of her citizens. ''Deeds not words" has 
been the motto by which her people have lived and died. Nevertheless a great 
deal that is interesting remains to be said. 





The proceedings of the day flitted vaguely through the minds of the trio 
in slumber, — glimpses of old mills high up on mossy banks mixed in delightful 
confusion with sounding water-wheels and a long-whiskered, dusty miller 
carrying a box mounted on three sticks and pointing it at mill dams, singing: 

" Der mill vill nefer grind 
Mit water dot ish past. 
Veil, who wants it to?" 

Early in the morning the Squire appeared at our door and proceeded to 
map out our course for the day for us. "Planned for Newgate, have you?" 
said he. "Well, after Newgate, don't fail to go to the Crag Mill. For scenery, 
that's the place. Drive down through Copper Hill to Mechanicsville and squint 

across Cranberry 
Pond, then en- 
quire the way to 
North G r a n b y . 
From the Crag 
you can go 
westerly to East 
Hartland. On 
the way to East 
Hartland, find out 
where Rock 
House Hollow is, 
and go to it. It 
is worth a visit. 
There is a good 
place to cook 
your Irish stew 
granby hotel. there, and med- 

itate on by-gone~~times." Huggins stowed these directions carefully away on 
the back seat of the carriage and started for- the cemetery for a little quiet 
reflection before breakfast. It must have made him hilarious to read in several 
places in every cemetery he came to, these cheerful inscriptions : 

"iStranger stop, as you pass by, 
r As you are now, so once was I; 
As I am now, so you will be,j 
Prepareto die, and follow me." 


Death is a debt to nature due, 
Which I have paid, and so must you." 



He may have admired them for their veracity, for the charge of untruth- 
fulness laid to so many epitaphs can never be imputed to these. Perhaps the 
most noteworthy stone in the Granby cemetery is over the grave of Daniel 
Hayes, who was captured by the Indians when a young man, remained in 
captivity about seven years, and after his release became a prominent member 
of the community. We were told that he was an ancestor of ex-President Hayes. 
The inscription on his tomb-stone is as follows : 


who served his Generation in steady course of Probity and Piety, and was a lover of Peace, and God's 
Public Worship; and being satisfied with long life, left this world with a Comfortable Hope of life Eternal, 

Sept. 3d, 1756, in ye 71 year of his age. 

After copying a few inscriptions, Huggins responded to the call for 
breakfast. John was not feeling very well and said he didn't want any breakfast, 
but was finally persuaded to take just a little food to keep him from getting 
faint. Not being a bit hungry, some oatmeal, a few fried eggs, a slice of steak, 
a veal cutlet, a little liver and bacon, fried potatoes, and coffee and rolls were 
all that he could 
worry down. But 
these kept him from 
getting faint until 
his appetite was 
better. John 
always had had 
trouble with his 
stomach. Since 
childhood it had 
bothered him, by 
getting empty, and 
when he tried to 
remedy this evil, 
he was troubled by 
its feeling uncom- 
fortably full, before 
he had been at the 
table half an hour. 
It would appear 

from the first illustration that Sir Philip was trying to skip his hotel bill. 
Huggins catching him thus in the act, thought it an ungrateful proceeding, and 
told John to go in and settle up, and John, realizing what good treatment " mine 
host and hostess" of Granby had given, cheerfully did so. 

Thus, without the aid of a constable were we enabled to go to East Granby. 
John was feeling a little hungry here, and so all sat down to lunch by the church, 
which a summer boarder informed us was built in 1830 and cost four thousand 
dollars. The Granby churches are all of the same type, each with a square 
cupola surmounted by corner posts, the principal difference of the East Granby 
church from those of West Granby, Granby, and Copper Hill, consisting in its 
being built of stone, the others of wood. So each township has its own style of 
architecture, noticeable even in the bridges, which varied from the high boarded 
sides of those of Granby and Hartland, to the simple log sides of those of Canton. 

It was on the way to Newgate, that Sir Phillip found the hole in an open 
field where Mr. Higley had mined his ore to make his forty-two-cent coppers, 




the location being described as about one-and-a-half miles south of the principal 
shafts of Copper Hill, over which are now the prison ruins. So he paraphrased 
the old lines as follows : 

"There lived and flourished long ago, in ancient Granby town, 
One Samuel Higley, a blacksmith, of genius and renown, 
'Twas he who first taught Yankees how to make the copper ore, 
And manufacture money, which they'd never done before." 

In 1705 it was reported at a town meeting of Simsbury that "there was a 
mine either of silvar or coper found in the town," and a committee was 

appointed to investigate. 
A mining company was 
formed in 1707, which 
was to give one-tenth of 
the proceeds to the town, 
" two-thirds of which was 
to go toward maintaining 
an able schoolmaster in 
Simsbury, and one-third 
to the support of the 
Collegiate School at New 
Haven." At the present 
time Yale College does 
not derive its sole sup- 
port from these mines. 

Mining was actively 
carried on until 1745, 
and a little was done 
until 1788, when it was 
finally abandoned. Two 
companies, The Phenix Mining Co., in 1830, and The Connecticut Copper Co., 
in 1850, endeavored to carry on the business, and spent considerable money 
erecting smelting furnaces, but the ore, although rich in copper, was, like most 
of the prisoners confined there, of a refractory character, and could not be 
economically utilized. 

In 1 773, the mines were 
first used for the confine- 
ment of criminals, with 
the idea of turning their 
labor to profitable 
account in mining, and 
named Newgate Prison, 
to perpetuate the horrors 
in Tory minds of the 
famous London prison of 
that name, which was 
used for the most vil- 
lainous and worst class of 
criminals. They were 
employed at mining but 
a short time, for they 
used their tools to dig 
out with, and escape, and 
the manufacture of boots sentry box. 



and shoes, nails, and barrels was substituted. As more light was needed for 
this work, buildings were erected above ground. These were added to and 
changed, from time to time, as found necessary. Of the buildings and ruins 

now standing, the wall was built in 1802, 

The ruins of the buildings on the 


south side of the yard which contained the shoe shop, cooper's shop, hospital, 
kitchen, cells, and a chapel for divine worship are about eighty years old, and 
the stone building to the west which contained the treadmill, another kitchen, 
and more cells was built in 1824, thus making it about seventy-one years old. 

This was used but three years as in 1827 
the prisoners were moved to Wethers- 
field. The warden's house and this latter 
building are well preserved to-day. 

A writer in an article on "The 
Simsbury Copper Mines," published in 
the New England Magazine about 1886 
thus summarizes the matter : " But the 
glory and the shame alike of Newgate 
have departed. The Simsbury Copper 
Mines are a source of wealth no longer. 
Even Copper Hill itself which in its 
historic period was part and parcel of 
the old town of Simsbury, has been 
transferred by successive legislative 
enactments into the towns of Granby 
and East Granby. 

" On the prison grounds, decay and 
change have done their work. The 
greater part of the old wall is still 
standing, though broken down in 
places ; but the workshops are deserted, 
the treadmill is in ruins, the guard-house 
One of the buildings is somewhat less decayed than 
the others, and this is inhabited during the summer season by a guide, who, for 
a compensation, shows the curious visitor over the ruins, and lights him through 
the caverns, — but cannot tell him their history." 


is crumbling to pieces. 



We, however, were shown about by a guide who had the history at his 
tongue's end, the place having come under other ownership. 

The working of the treadmill, the shutes for the grain to slide to the floors 
below, the trough where the bread was kneaded by being gayly pranced upon 
by the bare feet of some of the convicts, gave a little idea of the culinary 
arrangements of the prison life. The bottom of the bread trough was full of 
dents, toe-nail prints, perhaps, where in excessive hilarity a big negro convict 
had put in some extra strokes, so Huggins imagined. But appetizing as it was 
to think of, we did not feel hungry for any of that bread. The cells in this 
building were fitted up with bunks, so arranged as to accommodate the greatest 
numbers in the smallest space. This was accomplished by " dovetailing" the 
prisoners, so each man's feet were near another's head, or as Huggins expressed 


it, " One man's toes were in another man's mouth." The various insurrections 
and escapes were vividly described by our guide. Sir Philip disappeared for 
a few minutes, saying he had noticed an old door just around the corner, with 
some of the nails and bolts in it that had been forged in the blacksmith shop. 
He wanted to take a picture of it. He soon returned and we prepared with 
cameras and flash-light machines, to descend into the caverns. Later, Sir 
Philip did show us a picture of that door, but we also discovered in looking 
over his cash account the item " m — d — 15c," which he said meant medicinal 
drugs. We were glad to have it explained, else we might have thought it to 
be ''mixed drinks." 

The caverns, darker than the Middle Ages, and damp and cool as an April 
shower, did not seem an ideal health resort, although the histories tell us, "that 
as a rule, the convicts enjoyed good health and that certain cutaneous diseases 
were cured by the confinement." But we have also read, " From other 



sources, however, come whispers of foul vermin, reeking filth and horrible 
stench, hard fare and cruel punishments. In the damp and filthy air of the 
dungeon, it is said, the clothing of the prisoners grew mouldy and rotten, and 


fell away from their bodies while their limbs grew stiff with rheumatism." 
Whether these latter facts were true or not, they were as plausible and easy 
of belief as the former. 

The sounding room, a small chamber hewn out of rock, has a peculiar 
reverberating echo, which Huggins, who was superstitious, thought was the 
agonized tones of the shade of the negro convict, who, when confined there, 
amused himself by drawing his fetters over the calves of his legs, was unable to 




get them back, and his legs were amputated. John said that the blacksmith 
cut them off by mistake instead of the fetters, but we think that is false. 

Huggins suggested how much more realistic that room would be as a 
" chamber of horrors," if a " wax-figger" of a negro, with tongue protruding 
and eyes bulging in awful agony, was chained to the ring stapled there in the 
rock. What a striking illustration of historical fact that would be. He also 
wanted John to pose in the drain as an escaping prisoner, while he took the 
picture ; but John not having on his number eleven boots, declined. So he took 
it with only the hole, rocks, and pump in sight. We then went to the main 
room of the caverns, near the foot of the ladder where could be seen the remains 
of the planks, which had supported the bunks used by the prisoners. The 
platform which had once been above the prisoners to keep off the water which 


was continually dripping from the rocks, had long since been taken away. We 
spent some time getting our flash-light picture of this place, and wondered as 
we sought the upper world, how the convicts ever managed to get up and down 
that ladder, chained three together. It was all we wanted to do to get up 
singly, and we preferred the ordeal of having our pictures taken when we 
emerged from the stone jug, like any modern aspirants for a chance to decorate 
the rogues' gallery, than to trying any prison experiences of a by-gone time. 
So with prison garb, — the long linen dusters the guide furnished, — we lined 
up and were " took." This is one of the pictures we omit, for we are modest 
and do not court fame. 

We looked back upon the ruins when driving away and pronounced them 
better than anything we had ever seen in Europe. Our stay there had been so 
long that it was near sunset when we looked down upon the Copper Hill 




settlement with its background of high, level-topped Manitick. Very expressive 
those Indian names. This one, according to Trumbull, was "a place of obser- 
vation ; a place for seeing (or to be seen) far off," and true to its parenthetical 
meaning to us, Manitick was in sight for many miles as we traveled toward the 
setting sun. We did not have much trouble in finding a stopping place for 
that night. Sir Philip drew upon his memories of the days of his commercial 
life, and proceeded to hunt up the little boy to whom he had given a stick of 
candy in one of those "years and years ago." Yes, fortunately he lived at the 
old homestead, and that stick of candy had been accumulating interest all those 
years, regardless of the fact that the boy had an older sister at the time it was given. 
While Sir Philip chatted with his friend about old times, Huggins and John 
went out and sat on the piazza. The cool summer breeze stirred through the 
trees, bearing on its wings the music of the siren who was playing the piano in the 
house across the way. This reminded Huggins of old times also, for he murmured, 

" The breeze of the evening that cools the hot air, 
That kisses the orange, and shakes out thy hair, 
Is its freshness less welcome, less sweet its perfume, 
That we know not the region from whence it is come ? " 

" Blonde hair this time, not dark" thought Huggins, half aloud, and it was 
evident that Clara was present to his mind, although he had been very calm for 
the last two days. It did stir up a few yearnings, however, when at eleven 
o'clock, the siren appeared at the door to bid good night to her evening's 
company. This company was singular number, masculine gender. A hurried, 


subdued conversation, a long interval of silence, then a short " good-night," 
the sound of quick footsteps growing fainter and fainter, and all was still. 
Huggins said it was getting late, and as the night air was a trifle chilly, he would 
go in. With a parting request to our friend that he pry the sun up early next 
morning over the southern point of the eastern mountain, we retired, to change 
plates, go to bed and remain in peaceful oblivion until morning. Only once 
were we aroused in the night by the horses kicking, in the barn, and when John 




inquired what that racket was, Huggins, too sleepy to realize that he was not 
at home, muttered, " Normals." 

As we proceeded on our way to the northern wilds of the state, it was 
forced upon us what a distinguished company we were. The whole population 
turned out to greet us at Mechanicsville, and the mayor and his wife, for it 
could have been none others, as they were certainly the most prominent people 


there, — especially his wife, — and all the children of the place, took a great 
fancy to Sir Philip and followed him all around Cranberry Pond. One of the 
children, pointing to the camera, asked John if that was what people broke into 
houses with. It transpired that there had been reports come to them that a gang 
of burglars were working the state, and fearing we might be invited to stay to 
dinner, we departed for North Granby, for time was pressing. At the latter 
place, the people showed the same interest and they turned out in goodly 
numbers to greet us. The flattery we were bestowing on ourselves was un- 
warranted, however, for we had been mistaken this time for the stage, and the 
people's faces changed from that expectant, " I-hope-I've-got-a-letter" look, to 
a despondent, " how-mean-of-them " kind of expression, just as though it was 
our fault we were not bringing their last week's papers to them. So we passed 




quietly on to the Crag mill, where no one awaited us and there were none to 
criticize or eye us with suspicion. The mill was silent, and no sound disturbed 
the stillness of this veritable solitude, save the tumbling water and the rustling 
foliage moved by the wind, — a wild and romantic retreat presenting pictures to 
the eye from 
every direction. 

While Hug- 
gins went abroad 
to secure views 
of the saw - mill, 
cider- mill, a few 
old bridges and 
a black calf, the 
others went down 
in the ravine 
where John am- 
used Sir Philip by 
taking snap shots 
and was told by 
the latter that his 
pictures would be 
no good because 
there was not 
light enough 
there. John was 




a great success as a plate spoiler, and received prizes for the largest number of 
bad pictures at exhibitions. What attracted Huggins' attention most was a big 
snapping turtle that had his home beneath the dam. 


We looked at him wistfully and longed for soup, but he was out of reach, 
so we decided that we liked crackers and milk better, anyway. It was toward 
Hartland, as we journeyed westward from the Crag, that we met some charcoal 
wagons, and thus decided to get some pictures of pits in operation. Whether 
we had gotten into Hartland or not before we came to the place to turn into 
the woods, we could not tell ; for our efforts at finding the town lines were not 






always more successful than when in boyhood we looked on the ground for a 
big white chalk line to divide the towns. And why should we not find such a 
line? It was not our fault, but selectmen are too negligent as a rule, to keep 

guide - boards in 
proper condition, 
let alone mapping 
out the country 
in red, white and 
blue lines. Down 
through the 
woods, over the 
roughest of roads 
we came upon a 
clearing where in 
the midst was the 
charcoal - burner's 
home, which 
served to shelter 
unfinished pits. himself and wife, 

three children, and five hired men. The chicken yard had a pea-brush fence, 
and all the surroundings bore a rustic, " back-woodsey " aspect. It was interesting 
to study the construction of the pits, the way the wood was piled, the passage 
left to fire it, and the covering of all with dirt or turf. The burning of a pit 
occupies from two to three weeks and must be watched constantly, and ventila- 


tion changed according to the wind. We were shown about by a son of the 
burner, a bright little fellow who spoke English, French and Italian, Some of 
the hired men were of one nationality, some another. 



Down through the woods 

We were not far from Rock House Hollow and being fortunate in finding 
a gentleman well acquainted with the place who offered to take us there, we 
thought it best to heed the Squire's parting advice. 
for nearly a mile he -- 
led us, and there 
high up on one side 
of a deep gulch was 
" Indian Rock." 
This place, accord- 
ing to tradition, was 
a camping ground 
for the Indians when 
out on hunting ex- 
peditions or the 
war-path, and one 
better fitted by 
nature would be 
hard to find. An 
immense rock, pro- 
jecting from the 
side of the hill, 
affording shelter for 
a number of people cradling. 

and an excellent natural fire-place for cooking, while but a short distance' away 
is a good spring of water, — what more could the wily red man desire. Accord- 
ing to a tradition of the day of frontier life in New England, the Indians after 

a raid on Sufiield were pursued 
, by the settlers to this spot and 
a lively skirmish took place. 
But let the gentleman who 
accompanied us relate it in his 
own language. He sat down 
beside Huggins under the rock, 
and told the following : " The 
Indians, living to the south 
and west of here were accus- 
tomed to making raids on the 
settlements every little while 
and hurriedly retreating 
through the woods. This was 
one of their stopping places 
for the night. Emboldened by 
their success, they at last 
kidnapped a young girl, the 
daughter of the most prominent 
man in the community. She 
of course was the most beauti- 
ful girl in the settlement. How 
: .'^fe¥" ^ they got her I do not know, 

itg&d^^nSM? &. ■' Dut very likely she was out 

B^8p^5^5^^'3k^ i g ett ing the cows. She was 
'f^'^'\.:j0^p_^ _ '.*. soon missed, and guessing the 

Indian rock. real state of affairs, an alarm 



raised soon brought together quite a band of settlers who determined on 
immediate pursuit. The Indians must be vigorously dealt with and taught an 
abiding lesson. The Indians had come to this place and were cooking supper 
when the whites overtook them. Cautiously creeping up, the whites hid behind 
those rocks over there on the other side of the gulch, and waited until near 
nightfall. The old chief of the tribe sat on that rock there. The captive was 
lying there, bound. The braves were preparing for the night, so they could be 
up and off early next morning. All was quiet, when suddenly a musket report 


rang out, and the old chief dropped dead, shot through the heart. The whites 
then charged, secured the girl, and hastily retreated, before the Indians could 
get re-enforcements. The old chief was buried where he fell I've been told, 
but I hardly believe that, for I myself came down here and spent a whole day 
digging for his bones, as you see by that hole there, but could find nothing," and 
sighing to think he'd been unable to dig up a skull, a tomahawk and a few 
arrow-heads, he led the way back to the road, where he showed us an old shop 
that had once been used for the manufacture of wooden plows by one Drayton 
Loomis. Continuing our way we still climbed the hills, and shortly after sun- 
down came to a standstill on Hartland Green. 

(to be continued.) 


With slender pole, and line, and reel, 
And feather-fly, with spring of steel, 

Past noisy brooks in sunless glades, 
And deeper streams in woodland shades, 

We reach the trouter's paradise. 
Among great hills it silent lies : 

Where in the deep and darksome pool 
The shy trout lurk serene and cool. 

A quiet, wood embosomed nook, 
Dim cloister of the chanting brook; 

A cavern in the channeled hills 
Wherein the crystal brims and spills — 

By dark-browed hills it silent flows, 

Or falls from clefts, like crumbling snows; 

And purls and flashes all around 
A soft, suffusing mist of sound. 



May, i 77 i. I must run down in the meadow to see old Moosuc and his 
wife. These are the last of the Tunxis tribe of Indians, and they live in a 
wigwam and raise corn and a few other things. They have the best samp, 
(yellow corn cooked whole) that I ever have seen and I seem to be quite a 
favorite with them, for they always have a gourd of " samp " for me to eat. In 
the river near their wigwam there is an island, and old Moosuc takes us to it 
in his canoe, and we get " ground nuts " there. These (wild artichokes) are 
nice in the spring. I feel very sorry for these poor Indians for they see how 
the white men are spreading over their country, that the hunting is useless and 
it is hard to get meat to eat. They do not think our way of living is the best. 

The other day a bear came into our cornfield and I was glad that I had 
not gone there that day for young ears of corn to boil for the dinner. My 
brother went there on Sunday to get corn to roast and he saw the bear. 
Mother told him he should not have been in the field on Sunday. 

Now that so many of the men are away, I have to go to the north 
meadow for the cows. One day, I saw a garter-snake. It made itself into a 
hoop and came after me and I ran as fast as I could, and got into the house 
exhausted, and mother killed the snake on the doorstep. She says that when 
the country is more cleared and settled we shall not have them in such numbers. 

My great-grandfather was one of the original " Eighty-four proprietors " 
who settled here. They migrated from Windsor and Hartford, striking out 
into the woods west of the latter place. When they reached the brow of the 
hill east of us, and looked off on this beautiful valley, with the Tunxis river 
winding through it like a silver ribbon, they all exclaimed with delight and 
knelt with uncovered heads, to offer thanks to Him who had guided them 
through the trackless forest to such a delightsome place. This was the begin- 
ning of dear Farmington. 

I am so glad that they bought the land of the Indians and did not cheat 
them, and that they lived peaceably together. Most of the Indians have gone 
where there are better hunting-grounds, and old Moosuc feels so lonely that I 
think he and his wife, (squaw, he calls her,) will soon follow them. There are 
no settlements west of us. 

A man comes on horse-back every week with fish from the Connecticut 
river. We give him two pence for a large shad, but we have to buy a salmon 
too, because these are so plentiful that they must get rid of them, and shad 
come in the spring only. We have salmon in our river too, but they are 
building a dam for a mill and Father says that that will spoil the river for fish. 

1772. I must write about our meeting-house. When our town was first 
settled, or rather, before it was settled and the land had been bought of the 
Indians, there was an Indian trail running north and south — and this is our 
main street ; near the center, a lot was reserved for a house of worship, and a 
rude log house was built for that purpose. This, after a time, gave place to a 
framed building, with low seats in it without backs, Some of the women 


petitioned the authorities for permission to have backs put upon a few of the 
seats at their own expense, but they were refused, as those backs might be a 
source of envy and discontent to some, and might be thought to show a love of 
distinction in some, or a pride of wealth in others. They were asked to withdraw 
their request, and to be satisfied with such seats as the society provided for all. 

Now our new meeting-house has been built, on the site of former ones and 
is considered very nice. Two of our leading men went up to Maine, and 
selected the timber, which is of the very best — the breastwork about the gallery 
is said to be very remarkable, for the broad panels, nearly or quite three feet 
wide, are each of one piece ; and the shingles came from Maine also, and are 
nearly three feet long, and they have been put on with the greatest care, so as to 
last a great many years.* My Mother's cousin went up to the top of the spire to 
put in the weather vane. It was a fearful ascent and when he had accomplished 
it he found two holes in which it might be put, and in his doubt looked down 
to ask, lost his hold, and fell to the ground. He was killed instantly. 

Mr. Woodruff, the master-builder, did all the handsome carving about the 
pulpit with a knife. The vine of grape leaves which is painted green is very 
natural on the white paint of the high pulpit. I wonder how the great high 
sounding-board was ever built above it. When the minister, Parson Pitkin, 
enters the church all the congregation rise and remain standing until he enters 
the pulpit. He carries his three-cornered hat in his hand. Families come from 
quite a distance to meeting and have to stay over the noon recess to attend the 
service in the afternoon. Back of the meeting-house is the " Sabbath-day 
house " to accommodate these. It is a one-story house, with two large rooms, 
a chimney in the middle, with a large fire-place in each room. 

These families bring their lunch and go there to spend the hour between 
the two services and as the meeting-house is never warmed, these rooms make 
not only a comfortable place to stay in, but are used for cooking and also visiting. 

My Mother used to have a woman come every Saturday afternoon to dress 
her hair very high, so that it would look well on the Sabbath at meeting. She 
wore a cap over it. But she had to hold her head straight up all night, so that 
the fine effect would not be spoiled. 

One man, a Mr. Cook, comes from "White Oak district" with his large 
family, on a sled drawn by a yoke of oxen. He has bundles of hay for the 
oxen, and he covers a peck of potatoes in the hot ashes of one of the fire-places 
in the Sabbath-day house, before he goes into the meeting. After meeting, 
Mrs. Cook takes her frying-pan, cooks sausages, opens her basket of doughnuts, 
and the family feasts, and visits with the others who are doing similar things. 
This social hour seems very short and the long afternoon service a little duller 
than the morning, though I think it is because they cannot help thinking of the 
long ride home in the twilight of the short winter afternoon. 

Sometime after the building of the church, this same Mr. Cook went into 
Duchess County in New York, just over the Connecticut line, and there saw the 
Dutch wagons used by the farmers. He thought that one would be very con- 
venient to bring his family to meeting on the Sabbath, and that it would be a 
great improvement on the saddles and pillions then in use. So he bought a 
wagon, and on a Sabbath he really came to meeting, his wife, his children, and 
himself comfortably enjoying the unusual ride, but greatly to the wonderment 
of the people, for it was the first wagon that had ever been seen in Farmington. 
It all seemed very fine, but on Monday morning Mr. Cook was summoned 
before the authorities to answer to the charge of ' breaking the Sabbath,' because 
of the unseemly noise and disturbance of the peaceful quiet of the day. 

They are on the same roof now, one hundred and twenty-four years after. 


March, 1773. How fast news travels! Particularly, bad news. The 
messenger came through here to-day from Boston. His horse was reeking with 
perspiration and its sides were flecked with foam because of the rapid driving. 
Four days only from Boston, think of it ! He was bearing to New York the 
news of the outbreak which had occurred between the British and the people 
of Boston. It seems that the inhabitants of that town, I ought to say the men^ 
for women would not feel so, had resolved not use any more tea, because it was 
taxed; three ships had arrived from England, with the much discussed article 
on board, so a small party, disguised as Indians, went to the ships and threw 
the tea into the water. The consequence is that our town crier, Mr. Bull, has 
gone up and down our street, proclaiming the news, and to each house he 
leaves a command from some one who seems to have authority that no one is 
to use any more English tea. Every one calls it English tea, I suppose because 
it is brought to this country from England, although I have heard that it does 
not grow there but in a land on the other side of the globe, called China. The 
ships that bring it from there are many months in making the voyage. 

I have heard Father say that he remembered the first tea brought to this 
town. His father kept a tavern about three miles from here, on the road to 
Hartford. One day, two strangers, Englishmen I think, stopped at the house 
and wanted dinner. One of them took from his portmanteau a little package 
of dried leaves, and told Grandmother that he wanted tea made. She had 
never seen any before, and so carefully soaked and boiled it all, threw away the 
water and served the leaves as a dish of greens^ most carefully prepared with a 
small piece of boiled salt pork resting daintily in the middle. A disappointment 
all 'round ! They say that the strangers called for their horses, and rode away 
muttering imprecations upon such a poor country as this. Well, it was a lesson 
for Grandmother, for Mother says she was very self-sufficient and independent, 
and she would not have asked how those leaves should be cooked lest she 
should not be thought to know everything. Uncle Solomon savs I am like her, 
but I know he is mistaken, for I do not feel very independent, certainly not 
just now. 

How I have wandered from my story ! When the town-crier came to our 
house and told us we must not use any more tea, Mother sat down and cried ; 
it was not really so much the loss of the tea as what all this was leading to. 
Poor Mother is very far from well, and she cannot eat some of our dinners of 
fat pork and turnips, (neither do I like them), and the cup of tea did help very 
much. We are beginning to have potatoes now. They are very nice when 
they are baked in the hot ashes on the hearth, and they help our salt-fish 
breakfast too. Then we have bread made of ground corn which is baked 
before the fire. Our tea is of sage or raspberry leaves or sassafras roots ; but 
we will have the little pot of real tea for Mother. She sits at the end of the 
table where the drawer is, and keeps it in there. Yesterday, the town-crier came 
when we were at breakfast. He goes around to the houses most unexpectedly, 
to see if any one is so unpatriotic as to be really using English tea. I intended 
to have written that father remembers the first potatoes that were raised in this 
town. Before that, turnips were the staple vegetable. 

JUNE 6, 1774. Birthdays are usually the time to set about performing the 
good resolutions which one has in mind for a long time. This is my birthday, 
but it is not bright and hopeful, for how can one feel happy where everyone is 
talking of our quarrel with England? What shall we do if there should be a 
war, for almost everything we wear comes from England, and then we really 
belong to it, and I cannot make it seem right for these colonies to break away 


from such a really good government. As I am a girl, I cannot help thinking 
that we had better pay that miserable little tax they call the " Stamp Act," for 
these small colonies would never use very much paper, nor have many 
documents that would have to be written on stamped paper, and not many 
newspapers, so that it would make but little difference to us. 

But Father says it is the principle of the thing, that taxation without 
representation is wrong, and that we are going to be a great country which 
ought not to submit to oppression. He says that we cannot shout or sing 
" Long Live the King," for that would be disloyal to our great cause, and that 
every one must be willing to suffer, yes, and to die for it. I am afraid that 
much of the suffering will come to the poor women and children. 

July 1775. How many days have passed since I wrote about the tea. A 
great deal has happened since. The war between the mother-country and the 
colonies has begun, and many of our friends have left their farms, taken their 
muskets, and gone to Boston, where the British are in great force. One young 
man from Lebanon, John Bartlett, left his plough in the furrow, unyoked his 
oxen, and hastened with other volunteers for Boston. It was a long, weary 
journey, and he was only sixteen, but when he arrived at night-fall, he, with 
others, helped to fortify a hill called Bunker's Hill. The grass had just been 
cut in the meadow below, and this was scattered on the road to deaden the 
sound of the carts which brought the earth for building the breast-work. He 
worked all night, walking close to the heads of the oxen and whispering his 
words of command to them. How circumstances help to develop character ! 

This is only the beginning of our dark and anxious days. Every Sunday, 
this same town-crier, Mr. Bull, goes through the street beating a drum to call 
people to meeting, and it is arranged that in any sudden emergency growing 
out of this war, the drum-beat shall be the summons for all the men to come to 
the meeting-house.* 

1776. My brother Aaron was born July 4th, this year, the day our 
independence was proclaimed. I am afraid it will be a long time before we are 
really independent. Father has gone with a company of militia to New York. 
We cannot hear from him unless some soldier is sent back, and that we cannot 
expect as they have hard work to get men enough for soldiers, even if all should 
go. I know only one family of Tories in this town. They live in the house 
next south of the meeting-house, and their name is Mix. 

Dec. 1776. We were glad to have Father come home last night. He, 
with others, have returned because it is winter and they are discharged or fur- 
loughed (according to terms of enlistment) until Spring. They walked from 
New York because the government had no money to pay its soldiers. They 
talk of issuing paper money, which will be called " Continental Currency," and 
the wise ones think it will be a poor substitute for the real silver and gold which 
it will pretend to represent. But, if it will buy our necessary food and clothing, 
we will be thankful, for we find it very hard to get along. 

News has come this afternoon that some of our soldiers are over in the 
meadows beyond the bridge, unable to travel any further ; so near home and 
yet too weary and foot-sore to reach it. They are returning from the north, 
where they have been fighting Burgoyne's army. My Father was there when 
Burgoyne surrendered, but he came back by New York, and these men have 
walked across the country through the deep snow. 

The people of the town heard the news from two of the men, stronger and 

This drum is now in the Historical Society's rooms, Hartford. 


more courageous than the rest, who pressed on across the bridge to the first 
house, where they sank down exhausted. Oxen were speedily yoked, the women 
piled the sleds with blankets and whatever could be hastily got together of 
provisions for the comfort of the half-starved and freezing men, and they soon 
had fourteen of them on the way to peace and comfort. It is said that their 
shoes were so worn out that the last two miles they traveled over the snow, 
could be easily tracked by their bleeding feet. They were given a glorious 
welcome, as they came through the street, and although they were soldiers, they 
wept when they saw the party of rescuers. I wonder if our independence will 
be worth all it is costing. So few seem to think of the mothers and children 
who are really bearing so much and in so many ways. I wish somebody would 
write about the " mothers of this infant republic " for we hear only about the 
fathers as making all the sacrifices. But the mothers could not have endured 
ihe privations that the soldiers have suffered. I do not like to hear my Father 
speak of it. 

1777. There has been another call for soldiers, and as Mother is so ill, 
and there are so many dependent on Father, he has hired a man to go in his 
place in the army. It has been hard to get the money, which has to be paid in 
advance, three hundred dollars in Spanish coin. Now that Spring has come 
they will soon be on their way to headquarters in New York. 

I get but little time to write, but things of interest are constantly occurring. 
A division of Washington's army passed through here, and in it was a regiment 
of French soldiers. I stood out by the gate to see them pass, and one of the 
men handed me an empty flat bottle, saying " No good, no good." This I shall 
keep. Another gave me a part of a dollar which had been cut in two with an 
axe. A part of the regiment was bivouacked in the south part of the town 
beyond the village, but there were many sick ones, and these quartered on the 
inhabitants without leave or question. We had eight of them, but we did not 
give them our nice, comfortable beds, for we never should have wanted to use 
them again. An abundance of clean straw was spread upon the floors for them. 
They were not like our own people who had left us but a short time before, for 
they were those who came from France with Gen. Lafayette. Mother was 
troubled to have those miserable, dirty people in her always tidy house, but 
they were sick as well as dirty, and so were cared for very kindly. One of them 
was sick from neglect more than from disease, and he was taken to the barn, 
provided with hot water and soap, and clean clothes. After a good supper and 
a night of rest on the clean straw, he seemed bright and well, aud when he left, 
although we could not understand his words, he looked his thanks unmistakably. 

1784. Another long interval of busy work and care. I have decided that 
I will teach this summer, and in Middlefield. I am to have one dollar a 
week, and am to board around — this means to board at the homes of the 
children a certain number of days for each child. Some of the places will be 
very pleasant, and some I shall simply endure. 

Miss Becky Thompson has been here to make me a calico dress, and the 
rest of my clothes I shall make myself after I go to Middlefield. I shall have so 
much time, mornings and evenings, that I shall accomplish a great deal. This 
Becky Thompson is rather old and very deaf. She comes at seven o'clock in the 
morning and works until nine in the evening for a shilling a day. She can tell 
when it is about nine o'clock, and time to stop work, by the shortness of the 
candle. She says she wonders what people do with their old pins when they 
buy new ones ! Hers are as yellow as gold. 


1785. I have finished my teaching in Middlefield. Sewing was one of the 
branches to be taught, and I soon learned it was an adroit way for the mothers 
to get the family sewing done. Small children would appear, boys as well as 
girls, with difficult parts of dresses to be made, also trousers both large and 
small. Of course the teacher was expected to know how to do all kinds of 
sewing, and little boys and girls could not put in pockets and make button-holes, 
and that was a way to get the work done by the teacher. One day my table 
was loaded with fourteen pairs of trousers ! I took garments home and worked 
morning and evenings at them, instead of doing my own sewing. I understand 
they are very sorry I will not teach longer. 

Nov. 2, 1785. I have written one more date in this imperfectly kept 
journal, for yesterday was my wedding day, and we came immediately to this 
house which is henceforth to be my home. May our Heavenly Father bless us 
in this new life ! A good many of the young people came here with us, most' 
of them bringing some little useful article with their expression of kindness and 

I intend to see my Mother a little while after supper every night so that she 
will not feel so desolate without me. The oldest of a family of six must be 
missed. Mother's mother comes to make her a visit every town-meeting day, 
and then I shall go to see her. They live on a farm three miles east. She 
rides on a pillion behind Grand-father, and as soon as she takes off her red 
riding-hood, she asks for yarn and begins a pair of stockings for one of the 
children, and always finishes it before she goes home at night. 

And now, with new cares and an untried life before me, I must close my 



We heard them sing ; and wondered at their songs 

So pure and sweet, but when each voice was hushed 

Then only did we catch aright the notes 

Of their sweet melody, and then alone 

We sat and sadly strove to find again 

Some thought or half forgotten strain 

Of songs their lips had crushed. 

They lived with us ; they sang to us, but now 

Their songs may sound in sweeter climes than this, 

Yet still we mourn our loss, and gaze through tears 

Down through the aisles of memory, and sometimes start 

Perchance to hear some voice that seems to bear 

The tones of those sweet singers ; but, although the song is fair, 

We find it but the murmur of a passing breeze. 

Each voice is hushed ; and as a tired bird 
Flies for sure shelter to its nest, 
They sang a parting song with chiming words 
Then sought a silent grave for peace and rest. 


London, April ij, 1784.. 


Not a blind partisan, not a self-seeking office-holder, but a fair-minded, 
intelligent citizen of Connecticut, constrained by principle to remain loyal to 
king and government was the author of this epistle, — Joshua Chandler, of New 
Haven. The mass of Tories, during the American Revolution, was made up 
mainly of office-holders, monied men who feared the loss of property, and 
Episcopalians who honored the King as head both of Church and State. But 
there was also a class of moderate conservatives, who apart from personal con- 
siderations clung to the king, and believed rebellion unjustifiable. 

The Chandler family at this date embraced all classes. Capt. John Chandler 
of Woodstock, (then in Massachusetts), was the most prominent citizen of 
Worcester county at the time of its organization, and his children and grand- 
children held the highest offices in the gift of the government. As a matter of 
course, they were Loyalists of the most intense stamp, so bitter in opposition to 
the Patriot cause that out of six citizens of Worcester, sentenced to eternal 
banishment, enforced by the penalty of death if found a second time within the 
jurisdiction of Massachusetts, five were of this family connection. 

On the other hand, Charles Church Chandler, whose father had remained 
in Woodstock, was a leading patriot, member of the Committee of Correspond- 
ence, and but for his early death might have filled the highest offices in the 
State of Connecticut. Another cousin, Thomas Bradbury Chandler, became at 
Yale college a convert to Episcopacy, entered upon holy orders, served accept- 
ably as missionary and pastor, received a degree from Oxford and was offered 
the Bishopric of Nova Scotia. He and his family were devoted adherents of 
king and church, and by their position and wide influence, were able to give 
much aid and comfort to distressed Royalists. 

Joshua, son of a fourth Chandler brother, after his graduation from Yale 
college, in 1747, remained in New Haven, engaging in the practice of law, and 
in extensive business operations, and acquired a large property. That he gained 
the respect and confidence of the community was manifested by public charges 
entrusted to him, and very notably by being placed first on the Committee of 
Correspondence in 1777. But, it was soon manifest that his sympathies were 
with the mother country. He could but think " his countrymen were in the 
wrong." His sons became, indeed, violent partisans of the Royal cause, even 
piloting British troops in their invasion of New Haven, so that their father was 
obliged to join the British in hot retreat from the town, leaving property valued 
at ^30,000 to be confiscated by the State government. His prosperous career 
ended in "days of darkness." Repairing to England, after the close of the war, 
hoping to gain some equivalent for his losses in the Royal cause, he met but 
bitter disappointment. The subjoined letter* shows the innermost heart of one 
whose loyalty to the crown had wrecked his life and fortune. He felt that " the 
lost cause " had not been worth the sacrifice : 

Genealogy of the Chandler Family. 


" To the Rev. Dr. Chauncey, New Haven, Conn. 
Reverend and D r Friend ; 

On my taking my Final and Everlasting Farewell of my Native Country, 
I addressed you and my Good old and D r Friend, Mr. Whitney. I hope you 
Received that address as a Token of my Love and Friendship ; as I flatter 
myself that you have a Friendship for me, and would be glad to know my 
Present Situation and Future Prospects in Life, I have taken the Liberty of once 
more Giving you the Trouble (I hope) the pleasing Trouble of this. 

I left New York on the 9th of October Last, with a Design of Calling at 
New Haven, and for the Last Time, to have bid adieu to that Delightful Spot, 
and to all my friends ; but the Winds, but more the Feelings of my own Mind, 
and the Visible feelings of the Family forbid it. We had a most Terrible Passage 
to Nova Scotia, our Decks were swept of all our Stock, &c. &c. We arrived at 
Anapolis on the 23d. Mrs. Chandler was overcome with the Passage. She 
languished, mourned and Died in about 3 weeks after Landing. She is certainly 
Happy. She Died in the Death of the Righteous, and it is the first wish of my 
Soul, that her Family and her Friends might be as happy and composed as she 
was in the moment of her Death. Soon after the Death of Mrs. Chandler, I 
removed my Family about ten miles above Anapolis Royal. I provided as well 
as I could for them. I staid with them a few days. I then left them to the 
Gracious Protection of the Almighty, who I hope will be their God and their 
Comfort and Support. I left Halifax on the 9th of January, and Arrived, after 
a mixed Passage, in this Great Sink of Pollution, Corruption and Venality, on 
the 8th of February. I found the Nation in Great Tumults and Commotions. 
I found myself Perfectly Lost in Politicks, as well as in Compass ; East was west 
and North is yet South. 

Before I left America, I supposed Lord North to be Rather attached to the 
Prerogatives of the Crown, and Lord Sidney and Mr. Pitt Rather Jealous for the 
Liberty of the People. But how Greatly was I mistaken. I found Lord North 
Decidedly against the Crown, in Favor of the Democratical Part of the Consti- 
tution to the Ruin of the Monarchial; and Mr. Pitt and Lord Sidney, &c.&c.&c. 
all in Favor of the Prerogative ; these Political Squables you will see more 
Perfectly Depictured in the Newspapers, as also the Dissolution of Parliament, 
and the Calling of a new one ; the Elections in many places have taken place, 
and the New Ministry will have a Great Majority in the New Chosen House ; 
but their continuance cannot be long, the present Ministry are occupying 
ground that they are Strangers to ; they stand upon Tory Ground, and are at 
Heart Republicans in Principle, if there is such a thing as Principle in the 
Kingdom, the existence of which I Greatly doubt. This Kingdom, without a 
miracle in its favor must soon be Lost ; you can have no idea of their Corruption, 
of their Debauchery and Luxury ; their Pride ; their Riches ; their Luxury has 
Ruined them ; it is not in the Power of Human Nature to Save them, If they 
are saved, it must be by some Heavenly Power. I like not the Country, either 
their manners or even their Soil — the Soil is Nothing to America, you cannot 
see a single Tree but what wants a Flesh Brush — it is True that Agriculture and 
all the Arts are carried to great Perfection ; but give America the means, and in 
one Half the Time she will Rise Superior to anything in this Country. 

My own prospects in Life are all Dashed, my only care is now for my 
Children ; the Idea of a Compensation is but very faint. It is probable I may 
Have about ,£400 stg. per annum. My only effort now is to procure that Sum 
to be Settled on my two Daughters and my youngest Son for Life ; my Son 
William Stands some Chance for a Separate Support for his Life. I find my 
Health on a Visible Decline ; when I can Get my Little affairs Settled here, I 



shall go into Yorkshire or into Wales, to procure an Asylum for my Daughters 
and my two youngest Sons. 

Thus this unhappy Controversy has Ruined Thousands ; the Sacrificing the 
Prospects of my Family for life is not the only thing that fills my mind with 
distress. I yet have a very strong Affection to, and a Predilection for my Native 
Country ; their Happiness would in some measure alleviate my Present Distress ; 
but though I have found myself Greatly lost in Politicks, I cannot yet suppose 
my Country can be happy in their present state. A Democratical Government 
cannot long subsist in so great and extended a Country ; the seeds of Discord 
I see Sown among you, former prejudices and future jealousies will cause 
Convulsions ; the subversion of your present constitution cannot take place 
without bloodshed. I have sent in a small package to my Son, M. De Solme's 
(advocate in Geneva, Switzerland) History of the British Constitution ; it is well 
wrote; I wish Dr. Stiles would admit it into the Library — it may be of some 
service to my Country in forming their new constitution, for a new one must be 
formed at some future time. In the hour of Contest I thought, and even yet 
think my Country wrong ; but I never wished its ruin. I wish her to support a 
dignified character — that can be done only by great and dignified actions, one 
of which is a sacred and punctual adherence to public faith and Virtue. Men 
of your character may preach forever upon moral Virtue ; but, if the people see 
and find that there is no public Virtue, your preaching will be like the Sounding 
Brass and tinkling Cymbal. I wrote to my Son a few days since ; I wish you 
to enferce my regards to him, and also to remind him of sending the papers and 
documents I sent for. Tho' I am about to leave this city, and address to me, 
No. 40 Norton Street, near Portland Chapel, will always find me, while I can 
find myself. Pray remember me with the most sincere affections to your family, 
to all my friends. They must excuse my not writing to each one, neither my 
health or my feelings will permit ; but let us all bear up under all our losses and 
separations with a becoming fortitude. My own time, and the time of my dear 
friend, is Short, very Short, in this world. My first and last prayers will be to 
meet where no Political disputes can Ever Separate from near and dear friends. 

Your humble &c. &c. 

Joshua Chandler." 

Mr. Chandler's sad fore-bodings were too quickly realized. After his return 
to Annapolis he set out with his son, daughter, and a fellow-sufferer, for St. 
John, N. B., with all his books, papers, and evidence of colonial property, to be 
laid before the Commissioners and have their claims allowed. A terrible snow- 
storm drove their vessel upon the rocks. A slate-stone slab, in the old bury- 
ing-ground, King street, St. John, gives the sequel to this sad story : 

Here lyeth the Bodies of Col. 
Joshua Chandler, Aged 61 years 
And William Chandler His 
Son Aged 29 years, who were 
Ship wreck'd on their passage 
from Digby to St. John on the 
Night of the 9th day of March 
1787 & perished in the Woods 

on the nth of said Month. 

Here lyeth the Bodies ot Mrs. 

Sarah Grant, Aged 38 

Years Widow 

of the late Major Alex* 


& Miss Elizabeth 

Chandler aged 

27 years, who were 

Shipwreck'd on 

their passage from Digby 

to St. 

John on the Night of 

the 9th day 

of March 1787 and 

Perished in the 

Woods on the nth of said Month. 



The* history of music in New England, for two centuries after the landing 
of the pilgrims, is scarcely more than the slender story of psalmody in its rudest 
form. The future historian will devote more pages to the achievements of the 
last twenty, than to those of the first two hundred years. At the outset, before 
music was cultivated even slightly, it was barely tolerated, and was entirely 
restricted to the singing, in a dolorous fashion, of Henry Ainsworth's crude 
version of the psalter, or in some cases of the earlier one by Sternhold and 
Hopkins. A little later, the "Bay Psalm Book" was prepared by Rev. Thomas 
Weld, Rev. John Eliot, and Rev. Richard Mather. In this connection I quote 
somewhat freely from " Side-Glimpses of the Colonial Meeting-House, " by 
William Root Bliss, (Riverside Press, 1894) : 

" Singing was not specified as a part of the service, although it was 
practiced, and so badly practiced that the ' speaking contemptuously of singing 
psalms' was notorious. 

"A treatise called 'Singing of Psalms a Gospel Ordinance,' was published 
by John Cotton, of Boston, in the year 1647. The necessity for such a publica- 
tion seems to imply that psalm-singing was not a general custom in meeting- 
houses. After all that was printed on the subject, there was, in the first century 
of New England, nothing that could be called a service of song; no harmonious 
band of singers ' to make one sound to be heard in praising and thanking the 
Lord, saying For he is good ; for His mercy endureth forever.' The Bay Psalm 
Book, imprinted 1640, which was used in some parts of New England, was pre- 
pared by three ministers, neither of whom had a strand of music or poetry in 
his soul. It asks us to sing: 

' Lift up thy foot on hye, 

Unto the desolations 
Of perpetuity : 

Thy foe within the Sanctuary 
Hath done all lewd designs. 

Amid the Church thy foes doe roare : 
Their Banners set for signes.' 

"The best specimen of versification in the book is 'Psalm 137.' Yet it 
must have bewildered the rustics who launched themselves 'The rivers on, of 
Babilon ' to learn where they were going to land : 

'The rivers on of Babilon 

There when wee did sit downe : 
Yea even then wee mourned, when 
Wee remembered Sion .... 

"A much needed apology appears in the preface of this book, which 
reassures the stumbling singer in these words : ' If the verses are not alwayes 
so smooth and elegant as some may desire or expect let them consider that 
God's altar needs not our polishings. Exodus 20! 


"Other hymn books known in New England were Ainsworth's ' Book of 
Psalms Englished both in prose and metre,' printed at Amsterdam in the year 
16 1 2. Older than this was the Sternhold and Hopkins hymnody which, during 
the reign of Queen Elizabeth, had been ' permitted rather than allowed ' in the 
Church of England ; it was bound in the covers of the Book of Common 
Prayer, and was rated as a work of superior excellence until the hymnal of Tate 
and Brady appeared in the year 1696. Then came hymns composed by Isaac 
Watts, which, in the course of time, crowded out all others. Up to the year 
1 78 1, forty editions of his psalms and hymns had been published in New 

England His hymns, coming to the cheerless and shivering services 

of worship in the colonial meeting-house, were like the coming of a bright and 
hopeful guest to a disconsolate fireside. Some of them have been acknowledged 
to be the hymns of a true poet ; and these are said to be more suitable for the 
service of divine worship than those of any other English composer. . . . 

" It may be said that Watts has written the songs of the church. For 
nearly two centuries his lyric poems have been sung, and are sung to-day 
wherever the English language is spoken. The reason for this must be that no 
other poet has so well expressed the devotional spirit, or has so closely 
sympathized with the experiences of a religious life. 

"Are you penitent? There is the hymn: 

' Show pity, Lord ! O Lord, forgive ; 

Let a repenting rebel live; 
Are not thy mercies large and free ? 
May not a sinner trust in thee ? ' 

"Are you truthful? There is the hymn : 

'Thus far the Lord hath led me on; 

Thus far His power prolongs my days : 
And every evening shall make known 

Some fresh memorials of His grace.' 

"Are you desirous of rendering a tribute of homage? 

' From all that dwell below the skies, 
Let the Creator's praise arise ; 
Let the Redeemer's name be sung 
Thro' every land, by every tongue.' 

"And yet when the hymns of Dr. Watts appeared, many theologians of 
New England who had been laboriously singing from the Bay Psalm Book, or 
from the Sternhold and Hopkins version, stood still, not knowing, as they said, 
what hymns of Dr. Watts should be sung as sacred and what should be sung as 
profane. Some of them thought that carnal men should not sing at all. In the 
year 1736, ministers of Boston were discussing and doubting the propriety of 
singing any ' hymns of mere human composure,' and they objected to singing 
those which were not paraphrases of the Psalms of David. 

"There appears to have been no scientific knowledge of music in New 
England until the early part of the last century. It is said that but five or six 
tunes were in use, and the only identity which these had, as used in different 

towns, was in the names All tunes were like traditions handed 

down by ear, and so changed were they in the transmission that their original 
form was lost. In Old England the tunes had been left to the mercy of every 
parish clerk. Records of arch-deacons' courts show that the clerk was punished 
for singing the psalms in church service ' with such a jesticulous tone and 
altitonant voyce, viz., squeaking like a pigg which doth not only interrupt the 
other voyces but is altogether dissonant and disagreeing unto any musicall 
harmonic' ." 

This is hardly to be wondered at, for Ainsworth, in the preface to his 
versification, writes : 


" Tunes for the psalms, I find not any set of God; therefore, all people may- 
use the most grave, decent, and comfortable manner of singing that they know." 

Metrical psalmody, first introduced into the service of the church by Luther 
came tardily into use in England ; and, beginning with Luther, melodies of 
many worldly, and it is said, even of licentious, songs, were pressed into service, 
so that when the practice became set in England this abuse was not lessened 
but rather increased ; for, in the first case, it is supposed that Luther took 
melodies of earlier times, and such as were not known to the people in their 
original settings, while in England it is said that the airs of loose and ribald songs 
of much later periods were adapted to the psalms, and were sung alike as sacred 
and secular tunes. It is recorded that Sternhold was so shocked by this practice 
that he at once determined to provide the courtiers with his psalms " thinking 
thereby that they would sing them instead of the sonnet ; but they did not." 

It is easy, at this day, to speak of the efforts of the Puritans in England to 
suppress music as acts of fanaticism and vandalism, and mistaken they were of 
course, but when they prayed 

" That all cathedral churches may be put down, where the service of God 
is most grieviously abused by piping with organs, singing, ringing, and trowling 
of psalms from one side of the choir to the other, with the squeaking of 
chanting choristers." 

It may be that their indignation was aroused more by what they saw than 
by what they heard. This humorous but no doubt truthful description of the 
" chanting choristers," written in 1633, by Dr. John Earle, successively bishop 
of Worcester and Salisbury, may lend some weight to their view: 

" The common singing men are a bad society, and yet a company of good 
fellows that roar deep in the quire, deeper in the tavern. They are the eight 
parts of speech which go to the Syntaxis of the service, and are distinguished 
for their noises much like bells, for they make not a consort but a peal. Their 
pastime or recreation is prayers, their exercise drinking ; yet herein so religiously 
addicted that they serve God when they are drunk. Their humanity is a leg to 
the Residencer, their learning a chapter, for they learn it commonly before they 
read it ; yet the old Hebrew names are little beholden to them, for they miscall 
them worse than one another. Though they never expound the Scriptures, 
they handle it much, and pollute the Gospel with two things, their conversation 
and their thumbs. Upon worky-days they behave themselves at prayers as 
at their pots, for they swallow them down in an instant. Their gowns are laced 
commonly with streamings of ale, the superfluities of a cup or a throat above 
measure. Their skill in melody makes them the better companions abroad; and 
their anthems abler to sing catches. Long lived for the most part they are not, 
especially the base, they over-flow their banks so oft to drown the organs. 
Briefly, if they escape arresting, they die constantly in God's service ; and to 
take their death with more patience they have wine and cakes at their funeral, 
and now they keep the church a great deal better, and help to fill it with their 
bones, as before with their noise." 


It is said there were more among the Pilgrims who landed at Plymouth, 
that were brought up in the atmosphere of good music, and had some knowledge 
of it, than among the Puritans, who landed a few years later at Boston. 
Winslow, one of the Pilgrims, writes : 

" We refreshed ourselves with singing of psalms, making joyful melody in 
our hearts, as well as with the voice, their being many of our congregation very 
expert in music, and, indeed, it was the sweetest music that mine ears ever heard." 

* Anthony Wood. 


It does not seem strange, however, that after a few years both companies 
should stand on the same level as to music ; for with the struggle for a bare 
existence, the terrible losses by death, and the absence of printed music, the 
loss of skill in singing must be a foregone conclusion. It is fair to suppose that 
Mr. Hooker's company brought with them the Ainsworth Psalm Book, and 
quite likely made use of it long after the Bay Psalm Book had been printed, as 
this work was looked upon in many quarters as an unwarrantable innovation, 
and its first edition was but slowly taken. Another edition was printed seven 
years after the first, and to prepare the way for its more general use, Rev. John 
Cotton published his treatise, " Singing of Psalms a Gospel Ordinance," referred 
to by Mr. Bliss. In Dr. Walker's History of the First Church in Hartford one 
may read of a similar service rendered here eighty-five years later by Rev. 
Timothy Woodbridge. The whole account is so admirably given that permission 
l\as been asked and granted to reprint it in this paper : 

Public services on the Lord's day began about nine o'clock. Congregations 
were called to the meeting-house by the beating of a drum, the blowing of a 
conch-shell or a horn, the display of a flag, or, if the community were so 
fortunate as to have a bell, by the " wringing of a bell." Hartford Church had 
a bell as early as 1641, and in all probability from the first, it being, with little 
doubt a part of the transported establishment from Cambridge 

After the scripture reading, " a Psalm succeeds. In some the Assembly 
being furnished with Psalm-books, they sing without the stop of Reading 
between every Line. But ordinarily the Psalm is read line after line by him 
whom the Pastor desires to do that Service ; and the people generally sing in 
such grave Tunes as are most usual in the Churches in our nation." (Ratio 

The singing was, for the most part, more devout than melodious. Mather 
is able only to say of it, as late as 1727, when musical affairs in Massachusetts 
had already begun greatly to improve : " It has been commended by Strangers 
as generally not worse than what is in many other parts of the world." (Ibid). 
. To add to the difficulty, no instrumental accompaniment, save the 
pitch pipe and tuning fork,was allowed ; such assistance being supposed forbidden 
by Amos v. 23, " I will not hear 'the melody of thy viols," and other passages. 

Many congregations did not attempt more than three or four tunes. The 
general custom was to use the Psalms in regular order ; and the singing exercise 
which seems to have occurred usually but once in each service, was from a 
quarter to a half hour in its dolorous duration. About the first quarter of the 
eighteenth century, a general attempt was made to improve the music by the 
recall of "notes," and as it was termed "singing by rule." But it met with 
violent opposition. Many congregations were almost split on the question. 
The innovation was denounced as an insult to the memory of the fathers, and 
as tending to Papacy. " If we once begin to sing by note, the next thing will 
be to pray by rule, and then comes Popery." Ministers and people, deacons 
and congregation, were in many places, at open hostility on this burning 
question. The interposition of the civil authority was in some instances 
necessary to compose the disturbances arising from the proposal to "sing by rule." 

The history of the matter in this First Hartford Society well illustrates the 
already well-established conservatism of this organization. . . . Doubtless 
affairs in a musical way had gone on here as generally, till about 1726 the 
subject of improved music began to be agitated in this region. The diary of 
Rev. Timothy Edwards, at East Windsor, and the records of the Windsor church 
show that the new method was disquieting this Israel.* 

* Dr. Tarbox's "Windsor Church, 250 anniversary," pp. 97-100, also Judge Stoughton's "Windsor Farmes," pp. 96-c 


In 1727, the pastor of this Hartford church, Rev. Timothy Woodbridge, 
preached a " Singing Lecture " at East Hartford, in the pulpit of his nephew, 
Rev. Samuel Woodbridge. The uncle was now seventy-one years of age and 
the nephew forty-four, and both were obviously on the side of the new method. 
The lecture was printed with a preface signed " Per Amicum," written by the 
nephew, in which it is said: "The following Discourse was delivered at a 
Lecture for the encouragement of Regular Singing, a comely and commendable 
practice ; which for want of Care in preserving, and skilful Instructors to revive, 
has languished in the Countrey till it is in a manner Lost and Dead ; yea it has 
been so Long Dead, as with some it stinketh, who judge it a great Crime to use 
meanes to Recover it againe." .... 

The same year the matter came before the General Association, met at 
Hartford, May 12th, a few days previous to the "Singing Lecture" just spoken 
of. Rev. Nathaniel Chauncey read a paper which the Association, over the 
signature of "T. Woodbridge, Moderator," ordered printed, entitled "Regular 
Way of Singing the Songs of the Lord." The subject proposed for discussion 
was "Whether in Singing the Songs of the Lord we ought to proceed by a 
certain Rule or to do it in any Loose, Defective, Irregular way that this or that 
People have Accustomed themselves unto." One of the reasons the essayist 
gives for the strong attachment to the old method is interesting : " Many will 
readily grant that they (the singers by ear) use many Quavers and Semi- 
Quavers, &c, and on this account it is that they are so well pleased with it, and 
so loathe to part with it: now all these Musical Characters belong wholly to 
Airy and Vain Songs, neither do we own or allow any of them in the Songs of 
the Lord." 

But notwithstanding this committal of the old Pastor and of the General 
Association to the new way, the Hartford Church continued in the old several 
years longer. It sung as it had sung in Isaac Foster's day, till after the long 
pastorate of Timothy Woodbridge ended, and until he, after advocating the 
reform in vain, was gathered to his fathers. The year after Mr. Woodbridge 
died, however, the Society took action, on the 20th of June, 1733, in this 
cautious and tenative manner: "Voted that this Society are willing and 
Content that such of them as Encline to Learn' to Sing by Rule should apply 
themselves to the best manner they Can to gain a knowledge thereof. Voted 
and agreed that after the expiration of three months, Singing by Rule shall be 
admitted to be practiced in the Congregation of this Society in their publick 
Worship on the Lord's day & until their annual Meeting in December next; & 
that then a Vote be Taken whether the Society will further proceed in that way 
or otherwise." 

The two leaders of the opposing methods were then designated to "Take 
on them the Care of Setting the Psalm," for the periods specified : " Mr. 
William Goodwin as usual," and " Mr. Joseph Gilbert, jr., after the Expiration 
of the three months." Tried thus prudently for four months, the Society saw 
its way in December to vote " that singing by Rule be admitted and practiced 
in the Congregation of this Society in their publick Worshipping of God," and 
Mr. Gilbert was empowered to "sett the psalm." So that it was not long, 
probably, before it could have been said of the Hartford congregation, as 
Cotton Mather had quite exultantly said some years before of the improved 
condition of things in Massachusetts churches, that " more than a Score of 
Tunes are heard Regularly Sung in their Assemblies." . . . • . 

So it appears that only three or four tunes were being sung at the end of a 
hundred years, and the only progress that had been made in that time was the 
partial victory the advocates of singing "by rule " had won over their adversaries. 



The tunes that were added to the Bay Psalm Book were twelve in number, 
and were named as follows : Litchfield, Low Dutch or Canterbury, York, 
Windsor, Cambridge, St. David's, Martyrs, Hackney or St. Mary's and the 100th, 
115th, 119th and 148th psalm tunes. One of Mr. Bliss's "Glimpses" puts a 
quaint touch upon this old-fashioned singing in the meeting-house : 

The fierceness of the controversy caused by the change in methods of 
psalm-singing may be seen in a petition sent by Joseph Hawley, of Farmington, 
to the legislature at Hartford, in May, 1725, which 'humbly sheweth' that 
4 Deacon hart ye Chorister one Sabbath day In setting ye psalm attempted to 
sing Bella tune — and your memoralist being used to ye old way supposed ye 
deacon had aimed at Cambridge short tune and set it wrong, whereupon your 
petitioner Raised his Voice in ye sd short tune and ye people followed him & 
so there was an unhappy Discord in ye Singing, and ye Blame was all imputed 
to your poor petitioner, and John Hooker Esqr sent for him & fined him for 
breach of Sabbath, and so your poor petitioner is Layed under a very heavie 
Scandal & Reproach & Rendered vile & prophane for what he did in ye fear 
of God.' " 

In Chapin's Glastenbury (1853) this contention over singing by note or 
by rote is referred to, and in that town the question was settled as at Hartford 
and Windsor, by a compromise : 

"The storm spent its greatest fury in Massachusetts, dividing congregations 
and arraying ministers and people, deacons and choirs, in the utmost hostility 
against each other. In Connecticut, the zeal of the combatants was less fervid 
and general. But even here the interposition of the General Court was 
required in many towns to quiet the disturbances arising from the introduction 
of singing by rule. In Glastenbury the matter was quietly and easily disposed 
of by a vote of the town in Feb. 1733, directing the congregation in the first 
society to sing one half of the day by ' rote ' and the other half by ' rule ' and 
to begin after the next election " 

This could only mean the ultimate triumph of the new way, and with it a 
demand for singing schools, and the introduction of choirs. 

(to be continued.) 


The operatic warbler may voice her culture rare 

With Wagner, Rubinstein and Bach, or any high- 
flown air, 

But still her notes are lacking they're so very 
straight and prim 

By the side of that old melody, the pennyroyal 

When Deacon Jones and Sister Prime in joyful 
tune did blend. 

With many an extra here and there, and such a 
hearty end, 

The church was filled with music up to the very 

When the chorus joined the choir in that penny- 
royal hymn. 

The palsied organ creaked and wheezed, when 

soaring up on C, 
And grumbled, groaned and trembled down along 

the depths of G; 
But, never faltering its work, like a soldier, staid 

and grim, 
It started out to wrestle with a pennyroyal hymn. 

The boys would swell the rolling song to help the 

deacons out, 
But keen would be the ear that told just what they 

sang about, 
But words were never noticed, for they sang with 

mighty vim, 
So their aid was very welcome in that pennyroyal 




The golden year is in its summer gear ; 

The world is sleeping in a cloud of luster ; 
And round the freighted altars of the year 

The blushing roses cluster. 

Upon the hill-top sleeps the lambent light, 
While all the valley lies in deepest shadow ; 

The brooklet, murmuring at its languid plight, 
Creeps slowly through the meadow. 

The fields are golden with their harvest crown 
That nods in every dewy breeze that passes, 

The hardy apple trees are weighted down 
With golden fruit in masses. 

And soft from branches of the way-side tree, 
The merry birds their matins carol, gladdenin; 

The heart of nature with their melody, — 
Their mates with envy maddening. 

The cow-boy seeks a sweet, noon-day repose, 
And rests beneath the apple-tree full-laden : 

Among the clover-tops — a bed of rose — 
He dreams he lies in Aidenn. 

He dreams that he alone, in cloud-land bright, 
Is set to keep the clouds from making battle. 

The clouds seem all intent on showing fight, — 
Like great, unruly cattle ! 

But, down below, the gentle lowing kine 
Stand browsing in the riant, scented clover : 

The cow-boy wakes, in ecstasy divine, — 
Then dreams the dream all over. 



The town of Norfolk is one of notable antiquity as well as of modern 
thrift, enterprise and developed attractiveness. It was settled by the whites as 
early as 1640 when it was called by its Indian name "Norwake," and the next 
year, was formally established a town by its English settlers. Its location is 
upon the south-western hill-slopes that beautify the shores of Long Island 
sound, forty-two miles from the city of New York. Its population in i860 was 
7,582 ; in 1880, it was 13,956 ; in 1890, or in the last census, it was deemed to 
be about 18,000, and at the present time, a fair and moderate estimate puts its 
population at fully 20,000. Norwalk harbor is studded with numerous 



picturesque islands and the views from its surrounding hills are of unrivaled 
beauty. As a popular summer resort, its fame is wide-spread. A ride over its 
hills and along the saline shores, presents new charms in the constantly varying 
panorama of beauty and delight. 

The New York and New Haven railroad runs hourly trains from Norwalk 
between the two cities, while a passenger steamer and two freight propellers 
daily ply to and from New York. A tri-weekly steamer also runs to and from 
Huntington, L. I., and scores of steam oyster boats, are engaged in Norwalk's 
great and profitable oyster industry. Trains over the Danbury and Housatonic 
divisions of the Consolidated system give convenient access to the interior of 



the state and with 
south-wester n 
Few New England 
towns possess such 
ample facilities of 
railroad and water 
with all parts of 
the country. 

Its parks, 
churches, beauti- 
ful homes and 
shaded avenues, 
with its two lines 
of ele c t ri cally 
equipped street 
railways, its gas 
and two electric 
light plants, its 
two public water 
systems, ample 
sanitary sewer sys- 
tem, several post-offices and free delivery, state armory, two public libraries, 
five national and three savings banks, society lodges, two Grand Army Posts, 
hotels and daily and weekly newspapers, added to its exceptional healthfulness, 

■ /- 







give Norwalk 
advantages and 
attractions as a 
place for desirable 
residence, business 
and manufactures, 
possessed by very 
few even of the 
most eligibly loc- 
ated New England 
towns. Its growth 
during the past 
decade has been 
phenomenal, and 
to-day Norwalk 
stands seventh in 
importance and 
population among 
the towns of the 

Norwalk in its 
personal biogra- 
phies is equally notable. It has been the birth-place and residence of statesmen, 
divines, judges, physicians, soldiers and philanthropists, almost innumerable 
and of historic renown. It was the home and is now the burial place of Governor 
Thomas Fitch of Colonial times ; of Governor and Judge Clark Bissell ; of U. S. 
Senators Thaddcus Betts and Orris S. Ferry, of Rev. Drs. Burnett (of revolution- 
ary war fame), 
Hall, Mead, Weed 
and Beard. It 
is the present 
home of Maj. 
Gen. Darius N. 
Couch, who 
would have been 
in chief command 
of the Army of 
the Potomac at 
Gettysburg, had 
not his innate 
modesty, led him 
to resolutely de- 
cline the honor 
and responsibil- 
ity. It is the 
birth-place and 
home of a daugh- 
ter of Captain Hezekiah Betts of the Revolutionary Army, who still lives in the 
enjoyment of all her faculties. It was the birth-place and home of the parents of 
General, Judge and Senator Sherman, before their removal to Ohio, also of U. S. 
Treasurer James W. Hyatt, and is now that of U. S. Patent Commissioner John S. 
Seymour, and last, though by no means least, of Congressman Ebenezer J. Hill. 





In ye olden times, Washington passed the night at one of our local hostelries ; 

Franklin was a quite frequent visitor to the old Norwalk inn upon the church 
green and a voracious devourer of Xorwalk's, even then, celebrated oysters. 
La Fayette halted here for supper and addressed his Norwalk admirers, on the 
occasion of his carriage ride through the state to Boston. It was burned by 
order of the British Commander Gen. Tryon, at the time of his raid into Con- 
necticut, July II, 1799, nevertheless it is to-day among the foremost towns of 
the state, in culture, modern enterprise and progress, in picturesque beauty of 
scenery and, as a summer resort, is justly believed to be unrivaled by any other 
town in New England. 

The Xorwalk Board of trade recently issued the following circular : 
"The groups of Xorwalk Islands, distant about a mile from the main land, 
form a beautiful and commodious harbor which receives the Xorwalk River up 
which vessels of twelve feet draft can sail a distance of two miles. A passenger 

■~W> J 


steamer runs daily to and from Xew York in the summer, and daily freight-boat 
during the entire year. There is also a tri-weekly boat to Huntington, Long 
Island, in the summer. Dorlon's Point at the eastern entrance to the harbor 
and Roton Point at the western are delightful summer resorts, and the drives 
over the hills and along the shore are unrivalled in beauty. 

The New York, New Haven and Hartford Railroad furnishes hourly transit 
to and from Xew York city, and the Housatonic railroad with its western and 
northwestern connections brings Norwalk into easy communication with all 
parts of the country. 

The town, lying for five miles along the valley of the Norwalk river and 
climbing up the splendid hills, that reach out on either side, with its magnificently 
shaded streets, the result of two hundred and fifty years of care and thought, is 


not only a town of beautiful homes, but by its location, its rail and water 
communications, and the advantages it possesses for all kinds of manufacturing 
industries, it has grown to the seventh in population in the State. 

It has eight post-offices and a free delivery system, excellent telegraph and 
telephone service, twelve miles of street railroad, concrete and flag-stone side- 
walks, a well organized and well equipped fire department and fire alarm system, 
gas and electric lights, a fine system of water-works, costing half a million 
dollars and now self-sustaining, a sewer system which has cost a quarter million 
of dollars, twelve public and five private schools, three daily and two weekly 
newspapers, three hotels and fifteen churches. It has two public libraries, five 
National banks with a total capital of $740,000, three Savings banks with 9,250 
depositors and $3,162,000 of assets. It has two military companies and a fine 
State armory, a flourishing Young Men's Christian Association and thirty-one 
lodges, societies, and other social and benevolent organizations. 

Its industries are diversified and extensive. The largest single one is the 
manufacture of fur hats, in which fifteen establishments employing about fifteen 
hundred persons are engaged. The second in importance is the cultivation of 


oysters for which Norwalk has literally a world-wide reputation. In addition to 
these there are the following factories ; 2 locks ; 1 steam engines and air com- 
pressors ; 2 straw hats ; 1 corsets ; 1 hatters' supplies ; 2 furnaces and stoves ; 3 
cassimeres, worsteds and felts ; 1 elastic fabrics ; 3 shoes ; 2 hardware novelties ; 
5 carriages ; 1 shirts ; 5 sash, doors and blinds ; 3 paper boxes and packing- 
cases ; 7 cigars ; 2 fur cutting ; 5 saw mills ; 1 gas stoves and appliances ; 2 iron 
fences; 2 cement pipe ; 4 planing mills ; 3 machine shops ; 1 patterns." 

In nothing however is Norwalk more notable than its shore and island 
sites for summer cottages. At Roton Point, Rowayton, Bell Island, Hickory Bluff, 
Piney Point, The Knob, and Fitch's Point, and upon the numerous picturesque 
outer Islands studding the harbor, there are several hundred of these beautiful 
summer homes, mainly owned and occupied by people from abroad, who have 
been attracted by Norwalk's unrivaled marine and shore scenery. The late 
noted Wall street Banker, LeGrand Lockwood built his two million dollar 
residence here and many other showy and costly edifices have been erected in 
recent years. The great majority of Norwalk's summer residences are, however, 


of the comfortable and unpretentious styles of architecture, rather than the 
gaudy and excessively ornamental structures, so frequently erected by shoddy or 
smart sort of people, who frequently migrate from our large cities and seek to 
impress their wealth and importance upon the more sober-minded and sensible 




rustics. Norwalk is particularly blessed with a refined and cultured society and 
encouragingly exempt from the ignorant, vicious and degraded elements too 
common in other sea-port towns. 



My clay and night are in my lady's hand; 
I have no other sunrise than her sight; 

For me her favor glorifies the land; 
Her anger darkens all the cheerful light, 

Her face is fairer than the hawthorne white, 
When all a-flower in May the hedge-rows stand; 

While she is kind, I know of no affright; 
My day and night are in my lady's hand. 

All heaven in her glorious eyes is spanned; 
Her smile is softer than the summer's night, 

Gladder than daybreak on the Faery stand; 
I have no other sunrise than her sight. 

Her silver speech is like the singing flight 
Of runnels rippling o'er the jeweled sand; 

Her kiss a dream of delicate delight; 
For me her favor glorifies the land. 

What if the Winter chase the Summer bland ! 
The gold sun in her hair burns ever bright. 

If she be sad, straightway all joy is banned; 
Her anger darkens all the cheerful light. 




We are all sufficiently familiar with the history of our country to tell on our 
fingers' ends the names of the principal heroes and leaders in its history — for 
instance, Governors Carver, Bradford and Winthrop, Miles Standish, Roger 
Williams, Thomas Hooker, John Eliot, and so on down to our day. But how 
little do we know of them personally, beyond the mere names and what they 
stand for. There is, however, a notable company of their descendants extending 
down to the present day that constitutes what Dr. Holmes, with great felicity, 


called "The Brahmin-caste of New England," who were born leaders, brainy 
men, brilliant, straight-forward, steady-going people, all of them who fulfilled 
the promise given by their first ancestors on the soil. To this class belong such 
heroes as Israel Putnam, Nathan Hale, the Adamses, Winthrops, Edwardses, 
Hookers, and many others who come from the sturdy old stock of the founders 
of the Republic. 




If it is so difficult for the average citizen of the republic to remember the 
worthies of national repute, how much more so to recall state celebrities who 
gain a local and limited repute merely. The average man can not recall the 
names of all the presidents, much less the governors of his native state in 
chronological order. These then, must be our excuses for presenting, as the 
last of this series, some data as to the homes of our governors and leading 
statesmen, in Hartford. 

John Haynes, the first governor of Connecticut, came to this country in the 
same vessel with the venerable Hooker, in 1633, and was a member of his con- 
gregation in the original " Newtowne," in Massachusetts. He came from Copford 
Hall, Essex, England, and was a man of considerable wealth and evident culture. 
He was made governor of the Massachusetts colony, in 1635, ancl did not > in 
consequence, come to Hartford with the famous Hooker party, but soon after. 

It is a tradition that the first written constitution of Connecticut was largely 
the work of Mr. Hooker and Mr. Haynes. It was adopted in 1639. Bancroft 
describes Mr. Haynes as a man of " large estate and larger affections ; of heavenly 
mind and spotless 




chosen governor 
of the colony in 
1639, and as he 
could not, by the 
constitution he 
had helped to 
write, hold the 
office more than 
one year at a time, 
he was elected 
alternate years as 
long as he lived, 
dying March 1, 

The home of 
Governor Haynes 
was on Arch 
street, near the 
present gas works. 

The same house was occupied by the sixth and seventh governors, John 
Winthrop, Junior, of New London and William Leete of Guilford. Arch street 
was then a noted thoroughfare, and withal historical. 

Dr. Trumbull in speaking of the cause of the removal from Newtowne 
(Cambridge), to Newtowne in Connecticut (Hartford), considers that the 
relative popularity of Haynes and Winthrop, Cotton and Hooker was not with- 
out influence. Mr. Haynes, he says, " was not considered in any respect inferior 
to Governor Winthrop. His growing popularity and the fame of Mr. Hooker 
were supposed to have no small influence upon the general court in 
their granting liberty to Mr. Hooker and his company to remove to Connecticut. 

Edward Hopkins was the second governor of Connecticut, and came with 
the New Haven colony, which reached Boston bay in 1637, f° ur years after 
Haynes and Hooker. He married Ann Yale whose mother had married 
Theophilus Eaton, the first governor of the New Haven colony. He became a 
magistrate soon after coming to Hartford, and first Secretary under the written 
constitution, which would perhaps signify that he too was somewhat instrumental 




in its compilation, more perhaps than in the matter of chirography. He 
alternated with Mr. Haynes as governor and deputy-governor until Mr. Haynes' 
death. The May following, Mr. Hopkins was re-elected, although " absent," 
having gone to England, not to return. He had been in England several times 
before, but now that Cromwell was in full sway " at home," he saw fit to remain, 
became a member of parliament, and was made warden of the fleet, succeeding 
his brother. He died in England, in March, 1657, of consumption, aged fifty- 
eight, leaving his large property in New England to be devoted to the academic 
and collegiate education of young men. His wife was Ann, daughter of David 
Yale, of Denbighshire.* She is described by Gov. Winthrop, the elder, as "a 
goodly young woman and of special parts, who has fallen into a sad infirmity, 

'■UK :..-:,f<r~!, $■■ .v.- v K ,; .-:•;■.;<■; ;.-;»:-:■.•.■■ 


the loss of her understanding and reason which had been growing on her divers 
years by occasions of giving herself wholly to reading and writing, having written 
many books," and intimates that through the " tenderness and love of her 
husband, who was loth to deny her her favorite studies that her disease became 
seated and aggravated." About ^2000 of his estate, plainly intended for Yale 
college fell into the hands of the trustees of Harvard, and three grammar schools 
at New Haven, Hartford and at Hadley, Massachusetts. 

The home of Gov. Hopkins was on Governor street, traditionally the house 

* David Yale, from Wales, New Haven 1637; Boston 1645, left sons David and Thomas and daughter Ann. Gov. Hopkins 
recommends to the care of David, his " poor distressed wife." She died Dec. 17, 1698 aged 83, insane. She was fifteen years 
her husband's junior. Elihu, son of Thomas Yale, first of New Haven, then of London, in East Indies twenty years and later 
Governor of Hon. East India Company, gave repeated and generous donations to Yale college which received his name. He 
died in London, buried in Wrexham, Denbighshire, 1721, aged 73. His daughter Catherine married Lord North; Ann married 
Lord Cavendish, son of Duke of Devonshire, and Ursula died unmarried. 



of which a view is here given, hence the oldest existing home of an executive 
in this city. Governor Welles also resided on Governor street, and Thomas H. 
Seymour, one of our late governors who was akin to Horatio Seymour, Governor 
of New York state, both descended from the original John, of Hartford. The 
ancestral home of our Governor Seymour was on Arch street. The Ledyard 
elm, now standing south of the Lincoln iron works is on the original Seymour 


tract. John Ledyard, " the great American traveler," nephew of Thomas 
Seymour and cousin of the Governor, was born in Groton, and came to live with 
his uncle at the age of nineteen ; he entered Dartmouth, 1772, and the next year 
came home from college down the Connecticut river in a canoe. This elm 
tree was planted in commemoration of the event. The property was deeded to 
the present owner, Mr. Lincoln, on condition that the tree should never be 
trimmed or cut in any way except by the Park commissioners. When it was 
struck by lightning a few years ago, the dead branches could not be removed 
except by the authority of the commissioners. We are indebted for this infor- 
mation to Mr. John Ledyard Denison,of Hartford, who adds that it is a striking 
example of "Woodman, spare that tree." 

Governor George Wyllys, the third governor, lived on Charter Oak Hill, and 
was the original owner of the famous oak. Where it stood, a tablet has been 
placed, in the wall beside the street called Charter Oak Place. Ex-Mayor Wm. 
Waldo Hyde is the present owner of the estate. 

Governor Wyllys came from Fenny Compton, county Warwick, England, 
leaving there a large estate. He was chosen deputy governor in 1641, governor 
in 1642, and died in March, 1644. Samuel Wyllys, his son, born in England, 
graduated at Harvard, married Ruth, daughter of Governor Haynes. He owned 



land in Glastonbury, and left a son Hezekiah who was Secretary of State from 
171 1 to 1735, whose son George was Secretary, 1735 to 1796, a period of sixty- 
one years ; Gen. Samuel Wyllys, son of George, was Secretary of State from 
1796 to 1809, — making a total of ninety-eight years the office was held by 
three generations of the Wyllyses ! It is small wonder, then, as Miss Talcott 
says in her article on the Center church burying-ground, that one of the Wyllys 
family exclaimed that "if Connecticut could not remember the Wyllyses without 
grave-stones their memory might rot ! " The family is now extinct in this town, 
Hezekiah being the last of the name to reside in the old mansion. He and his 
brother Samuel had children who died young or unmarried. Miss Peck, in her 
poem on The Charter Oak has embalmed the tradition which saved the Charter 
Oak to be a receptacle of the charter (or its duplicate, vide Dr. Hoadly). 
Ruth, daughter of Hezekiah Wyllys, married the third Richard Lord, brother of 
Elisha, who owned " Lord's Hill," now Asylum Hill. The Charter Oak estate 
was the residence of the late Isaac W. Stuart, ("Scaeva," author of " Hartford 
in the Olden Time,") son of Prof. Stuart, of Andover. 

Governor Welles resided on Governor street, as noted. Thomas Welles 
probably came to Hartford from Saybrook, and is reported to have been 
private secretary to Lord Say and Seal before coming to New England. He 
was first treasurer of the colony, then secretary from 1640 to 1648, deputy 


governor in 1654, 1656, 1657, and 1659, and governor in 1658. He died 
January 1 4, 1 660. He married for his second wife, Elizabeth, widow of Nathaniel 
Foote (of the famous Foote family, from whom descended the Beechers) 
and sister of John Deming. The governor's first wife was Elizabeth Hunt, 
whom he married in England. His son John went to Stamford to settle in 1640, 
carrying the Wethersfield records with him, claiming he had a right to them, a 



practice quite common then which has caused no end of trouble to genealogists 
of to-day. Robert, son of this John, inherited the Governor's farm in Wethers- 
field, covering the ground where the state prison now is, and nearly half a mile 
further north. Samuel, son of the governor, inherited a farm in Glastonbury, 
or Naubuc, and from him came Hon. Gideon Welles, of Lincoln's cabinet. 
Thomas, junior, another son, settled in Hartford, and married the widow of John 
Pantry (another extinct name) and daughter of William Tuttle, of New Haven, 
(for whom see " Old Colonial Characters.") Sarah, daughter of the governor, 
married John Chester of Wethersfield, whose father was Leonard Chester, 
" Armiger," or 'Squire, who bore a coat of arms, — one of the few in Hartford 
— and came to this country before 1635. J onn Chester's daughter, Eunice, 
married Rev Timothy Stevens, first minister of Glastonbury, who with Hon. 


\J "I 


■ : fM: ; - 



Gershom Bulkeley (" Garsham Backly "), and Hon. Eleazer Kimberly (the first 
male child born in New Haven), Secretary of the Conn. Colony, 1696 to 1709, 
laid out the civil polity of that bailiwick. 

Governor Joseph Talcott, the eleventh governor, resided on the east side of 
Main street at the entrance of what is now Talcott street. The present building 
occupying the site of this dwelling is commonly called "The Talcott house," 
and is probably the oldest house in town. The shingles on the south side have 
been in place for a century, and the old nails are of wrought iron. The house 
does not appear originally to have belonged to John Talcott. His house lot 
was on the opposite side of Main street. Talcott street was laid out in 1761 by 
Samuel Talcott. A part of the old Talcott building is said to have been built 
by John Talcott in 1646, and if so it is the oldest building in town. The Talcott 



interest was sold out as late as 1814, and since then it has had various owners. 
It has long been used for mercantile purposes. 

TheTalcott family is a very ancient one. The emigrant ancestor was John, 
who was born in Braintree, Essex, England, son of another John, and grandson 
of a third John of Colchester, Essex, living there in 1558, and his father, a fourth 
John, was irom Warwickshire. The emigrant John, married Dorothy, daughter 
of Mark Mott, of Braintree, an eminent and ancient family, and brought his 
bride with him in " The Lion." Their son, Lieut. -Col. John (the fifth John in 
line) succeeded his father as treasurer of the colony, and was the father of Gov. 


Jos. Talcott. Another son of John, the emigrant, was Samuel, ancestor of the 
Wethersneld and Glastonbury Talcotts, through his wife who was the daughter 
of Elizur and Mary (Pynchon), Holyoke of Springfield — distinguished names 
in Massachusetts — and was Secretary of State of Connecticut. His descendants 
intermarried with the Chesters, Demings, Hollisters, Bulkeleys, Wrights and 
Hales, and left a notable progeny. 

We have already given the reader enough genealogy to ponder over for 
some time, and lest we shall weary him we will desist, remembering Tom Hood's 
famous lines on " Miss Kilmansegg" : 

" To trace the Kilmansegg pedigree 
To the very root of the family tree, 

Were a task as rash as ridiculous ; 
Through antediluvian mists as thick 
As London fog such a line to pick 
Were enough in truth to puzzle Old Nick, 
Not to name Sir Harry Nicolas," — 



meaning of course Sir Harris Nicolas, the eminent English heraldist and 

Oliver Wolcott, governor of the state from 1817 to 1827, resided on Main 
street a few paces south of Central Row. Governor Isaac Toucey lived at one 
time where the Aetna building now stands, on the corner of Athenaeum street, 
succeeding to the estate of his father-in-law, Cyprian Nichols. Later he lived 
in the building now occupied by the Travelers Insurance Company, which must 
be seventy-five or more years old, and there he died, after the Civil war. He 
was in the cabinet of President Buchanan before the war. This building was 
also the residence at one time of Henry L. Ellsworth, who was United States 
Commissioner of Patents, twin brother of Governor William W. Ellsworth, the 
latter of whom resided in the old Captain Morgan house on Front street, still 
standing. Henry L. Ellsworth gave $700,000 to Yale College, which though 
failing in part, 

yet testified to 1 — ~— — \ 

his great regard 
for learning. On 
the opposite cor- 
ner, where the 

Connecticut Fire ^Mul — 

Insurance Lom- 

p a n y ' s building "^B^i*. 

stands, lived 
Governor Joseph 
Trumbull. O n 
another corner 
lived Chief 
Justice Thomas 
S. Williams, now 
the residence of 
Mr. Parsons, his 
residuary lega- 
tee. On the 
remaining corner 
of Grove and 
Prospect streets 
lived Theodore Dwight 
more ago. 

About this time Washington street became the fashionable quarter of the 
town, and what is now called " Governor's Row," was inaugurated, by the 
removal thither of Governor Ellsworth. In 1836 he built the house now owned 
and occupied by ex-Lieutenant Governor William H. Bulkeley. Governor 
Ellsworth was the son of the chief justice of the United States, Oliver Ellsworth, 
and his wife was the daughter of Noah Webster, the noted lexicographer, who 
resided with them for some years. For a generation, the Ellsworth mansion 
was one of the most charming social centers of the city. Mrs. Ellsworth died in 
1 86 1, and the Governor, January 15, 1868, at an advanced age. He was deacon 
of the Center church for half a century, and was one of the committee which 
selected Dr. Hawes as pastor. His son, Dr. Pinckney W. Ellsworth, resided in 
the house for two years when it was sold to Hon. Eliphalet A. Bulkeley, founder 
and first president of the ^Etna Life Insurance company, and father of Governor 
Morgan G. Bulkeley, Lieut. -Gov. Bulkeley, Charles E. Bulkeley who was killed 
in the Civil war, and Mrs. Leverett Brainard, wife of the present Mayor of the 



this being a very historic corner fifty years and 



city. This residence was the scene of brilliant receptions during the incumbency 
of General Bulkeley as Lieut. Governor, and is one of the most noted houses in 
the city. 

During the administration of Gov. Andrews, the public receptions were 

given at the residence of Gen. Bulkeley, who was then on the governor's staff. 

Public and State receptions have also been given at the residence of Hon. 

Leverett Brainard, formerly the home of Bishop Kip. When the buildings of 

Trinity College 
crowned Capitol 
Hill, efforts were 
made by the 
faculty to secure 
this as the place 
of residence of 
the president. 
It is a very im- 
posing structure 
of the old Doric 
column style, so 
popular a cen- 
tury since. 

The residence 
of Hon. Morgan 
G. Bulkeley 
which adjoins 
that of his 
brother, was 
erected by Thos. 
K. Brace. There 
have been a 
number of nota- 
ble assemblages 

at this house, not the least remarkable being the reception given to Hon. James 
G. Blaine in 1888, when Mr. Bulkeley was the candidate for gubernatorial 
honors. A recent writer gives a glimpse of the interior of this house which is 
worthy of brief mention. 

The rich antiques in the house, which the Governor and his wife have collected, would excite the envy 
of the oldest connoisseurs. Mrs. Bulkeley is an experienced collector of old china and art works, and has 
some of the most interesting specimens in the State. The souvenir plates with which the walls of the 
dining-room are decorated cannot be surpassed in Connecticut. The Governor himself has a cultivated 
taste in this direction and has recently acquired two of the most valuable specimens in the United States. 
One of them is an authenticated article from the table service of Thomas Hooker, " the light of the western 
churches " and founder of the Hartford colony. It is one of the rarest of old platters in the United States. 
The most elegant specimen in the Governor's collection is an invaluable plate that was owned by Governor 
Saltonstall. It is a unique work of art in itself. With this magnificent prize is a fragment of the dress 
worn by the wife of Governor Saltonstall when she was presented to the Queen. But the Governor's special 
interest is in old furniture. He is the owner of some of the most valuable specimens to be found In New 
England. One set of superbly-carved mahogany chairs in his possession can be traced back for 175 years. 
Tables and chairs of rare association and interest occupy the parlor and reception-rooms, and the house 
throughout is rich in art and evidences of culture. 

Washington street has long been favored by the chief executives of the 
state, as a resident street. Hon. Marshall Jewell lived on the street before he 
became governor. Lieut.-Governor Albert Day passed his last hours in the 
Barbour residence, and Lieut.-Governor Francis B. Loomis in the one now 
owned by Mr. Joseph R. Cone, where his daughter, Mrs. Havemeyer then lived. 
Mr. Day resided during his official incumbency on Main street, near Sheldon. 



Hon. Marshall Jewell, during his occupancy of the executive chair, lived in 
what is now known as the Niles residence on Farmington avenue. lie was, in 
addition to Governor, Grant's Postmaster-General, and in charge of the national 
republican committee in one campaign. Gen. Grant came to Hartford in 1880, 
and the state militia in general, had rendezvous at Hartford to give him a rous- 
ing welcome. Gov. Jewell was further honored by the mission to Russia. He 
began life as a tanner's apprentice, like Grant, and by constant exposure of his 
arms in the steeping-vat he was, it is said, unable to sleep unless his arms were 
bare, a habit he retained all his life. As a journeyman-tanner he worked over- 
hours, day after day, and used to say to the laboring man : 

"You have as fair a chance as any man in the world. Any working man who is industrious and 
temperate and ambitious can not only get on, but he will find the hand of the capitalist extended to him in 
many directions in order to help him get along. I tell you that the more there are of men of that kind the 
better capital will like it." 

The residence of Governor R. D. Hubbard occupies a picturesque spot on 
Washington street. Part of the estate has been sold since his death, for building 
purposes, but the old residence is still standing. It was owned prior to his 
occupancy by Major Welles, first selectman of Hartford. Governor Hubbard 
has been "embalmed in bronze," the latest heroic-size statue in the capitol 

The home of Lieut. -Governor Catlin has already been given in these pages, 
as the former home of Mrs. Sigourney, and since the article appeared it has 
been sold to a syndicate for business purposes. 

Gov. Joseph R. Hawley resided on Sigourney street, during the year he 
held the executive reins, and there ex-Lieut. -Gov. L. Spicer Cleveland now 
lives. During one year of Gov. Lounsbury's term he lived in the Senator 
Dixon residence opposite the cathedral.* 

The list might be extended and many facts of interest gathered concerning 
other noted residences in this " city of homes," but the few of the best known 
that have been treated in this series show us how time in his flight makes the 
life of yesterday the history of to-day. 

* We are indebted for many facts to the Hartford Daily Times. 



A placid life hums through the homestead old, 

No modern mood aches here, 
The peace of ages brood o'er wood and wold, — 

No village babbles near. 

But all is openness, light, distance fair, 

And large majestic sky, 
And through the silent heights of evening air 

The shouting rooks sail by. 

A presence pure once moved through the hushed place, 

Stately and sweet and free, 
Gave to its tongueless beauty vital grace, 

Lit the sequestered lea. 

What images engaging gathered there — 
What warmth, what wit, what charm ! 

How filled with glory were those pastures bare, 
How glowed the homely farm ! 

That form has vanished, and the voice is still, 

The halo paled away : 
Sunset is sad upon the lonely hill — 

The gold of morning grey. 





Beautiful for situation are the Highlands of Manchester. Located amid 
the foothills of the Bolton range, which for romantic beauty are unsurpassed by 
any in New England, Highland Park lying about two miles easterly from 
South Manchester, is the gem of the surrounding country. The view to the 
south and east is obstructed by the wooded hills, but to the north and west, 
fifty miles of the Connecticut valley from Mount Holyoke on the north to the 
hills near Portland on the south may be seen from elevated points. Looking 
toward the west, occasional glimpses of the smooth-flowing Connecticut, the 
gilded dome of the Capitol glistening in the sunlight, the buildings of Trinity 

College, and in the extreme dis- 
"1 tance the heights of the Talcott 
Mountain range are visible. 

A natural park forms the 
center of the village and is 
the first object of interest to 
the approaching tourist. To the 
south of this park are deep ra- 
vines with wooded sides, which 
form a pleasing setting for the 
two waterfalls which dash over 
the red sandstone precipices in 
masses of foaming spray. Two 
springs are situated near the 
upper fall, one of which has long 
been known to possess valuable 
healing properties. In fact it is 
said that the Indians were wont 
to resort here for their " medi- 
cine water," and a century ago it 
was a common occurrence to see 
a person on horseback with jugs 
on either side connected with ropes going to and from the spring. Only a 
few rods distant from this spring is another of clear, pure, sparkling water that 





is much used for table purposes. The glen below the second falls is thus 
described in the Memorial History of Hartford County. " Here the stream 
falls sixty-five feet over the rocks into the valley below, grass-covered, and 
enclosed for some distance by wooded bluffs, — a miniature Yosemitc, admired 
by all observers. At the base of these bluffs are excavations that have been 
made for ore, (sulphide of copper), which, being found in limited quantity was 
supposed to indicate the existence of valuable mines. In the original division 
of the land, the place where the copper mines were supposed to be, was to 
remain undivided, 'to lye for the general benefit of the proprietors.' " 

These "Wyllys mines" were operated to some extent in the first half of 
the century, and one across the brook from the valley still remains open for 
the investigation of those who have the temerity to explore its depths. This 
locality was once the old Wyllys farm, the property of Ephraim Wyllys, the 
founder of that family in this sec- 
tion and possibly a descendant of 
George Wyllys of Hartford, one 
of the early governors of Connec- 
ticut. His gambrel-roofed house 
still stands on the brow of 
the hill across from the mineral 
spring; the frame still remains 
intact, but it has been re-covered 
and its interior entirely remod- 
eled by the present owner. 

The whole vicinity of 
land Park in the early part of the 
century, was evidently a pros- 
perous farming community, as 
the number of house cellars and 
old ruins attest, and history re- 
cords the existence of a Baptist 
Church, formerly well attended, 
about a quarter of a mile to the 
east, where now only a triangular 
plot of ground remains to tell of 
the ancient house of worship. 
Although at the present time no 
descendant of any of the old 

families lives in the village, the name of Wyllys being perpetuated by the street 
name alone, good deeds often outlive family names, for a subscription paper 
recently found shows that Ephraim Wyllys in 1822 contributed seventy-five 
dollars to the building of a church, a considerable amount for a farmer to give 
in those days of large families and consequent rigid economy. 

Since 1863, there have been extensive paper mills erected at Highland 
Park, by Case Brothers, furnishing employment to many of the villagers. On 
the site first occupied formerly stood a grist-mill, a picturesque affair with its 
ancient, overshot, wooden wheel, sixteen feet in diameter, the movements of 
which could be seen from the outside. Located in a little glen a short dis- 
tance from the mill is a bottling house in the cottage style of architecture, so 
surrounded by trees that it is a surprise to the visitor approaching it for the 
first time. 

In this secluded retreat, with the plashing of the waterfall, the purling of 
the brook, and the singing of the birds one might easily fall asleep, on a sum- 





mer's day, for " tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep," seems to hold 
perfect sway in this delightful spot. Notwithstanding its rural surroundings, 
Highland Park keeps pace with the many modern improvements, having its 
own system of water-works, its electrical plant, and the first electric street lights 
placed in the town. It is rumored that the whirring of the trolley car will ere 


long be heard in its quiet streets, but whatever concessions are made to the 
enterprises of human ingenuity, the natural beauty of the place can never be 
wholly effaced. 



" Oh, don't you remember the school house red 

Which stood far back on the hill, 
And the great oak tree which lifted its head 

Close by? It stands there still. 
You learned addition in that old place, 

And the use of verb and noun ; 
They have earned you much in life's hard race — 

Give some to the dear old town ! 
" You have wandered far from the hearthstone gray 

Where your infant feet first trod, 
You have walked in many a devious way, 

But you worship your father's God. 
For you'll never forget the lesson taught, 

When at night you all knelt down 
In the home that you hold with the tenderest thought. 

In your own old native town. 
" Ah ! go when the summer solstice burns, 

And your city home is hot, 
Go look where the winding river turns 

In the green old meadow lot. 
Then ask the people what it needs, 

And count it life's best crown 
To build it up with filial deeds, 

Your own dear native town ! " 




Quaint old woodland, still I view thee, 
As, in dreams, I wandered through thee — 
When each rustling sound thrilled through me, 

Fraught with Nature's melody : 
Whispering now, as in the olden 
Days that Time has tinctured golden 

With thy mellow memory. 

Through thy leaves are sun-beams straying : 
In the brook are minnows playing; 
Sweetest scents, the breeze delaying. 

Float at random on the air. 
Where, among thy darkling spaces, 
Light and shadow interlaces, 

In day-dreams, I, wandering, fare. 

Here the trees, gaunt guardians, hover 
O'er the brook, as if to cover 
It from fond eyes, like a lover, 

jealous of his lady's faith ; 
And the brook sweeps on, not caring 
For the gracious shade, or flaring 

Sunlight, dancing like a wraith. 

Singing, dancing, over ledges, — ■ 
Mosses, ferns, upon the edges; 
Rippling softly through the sedges, 

Winding onward, dark and deep, 
Through the tangled thicket-bower, 
Waiting for the dew-born shower, 

Still it wanders in my sleep. 

And my soul is hushed in slumber, 
Fondly dreaming of the number 
Of the echoes that encumber 

Memories of voices gone. 
Till my spirit wakens, glowing 
With glad visions, over-flowing 

Dream-land into drowsy dawn. 

Sweetest music now is filling 
Atmosphere of dreamland, — thrilling, 
Sad, and weird, and mournful, — stilling 

My soul with its symphony : 
Thus, in day-dreams quiet gloaming, 
Self and Soul are fond of roaming, 

Hushed by Nature's harmony. 

l' envoi. 

Soul from Self we may not sever; 
Life is but a day-dream ever : 
Dreams are but the soul's endeavor 

To regain the life ideal. 
All our life is but a seeming; 
Death is but an endless dreaming; 

Dreamland is the "Land o' Leal. 


A Novel of New York and Hartford. 



Old Mr. Van Braam found standing in his hall a monstrous fat, vulgar, oily- 
looking red-haired man with a vast face, of which a terrible over-proportion 
had gravitated into an elaborate apparatus of double chins. The old gentle- 
man, a squeamish and delicate person, was about as much pleased as if he had 
been visited by a bone-boiling establishment ; but he put on as good a face as 
possible, and said, as civilly as he could, 

"Did you wish to see me, sir?" 

"Yes sir," promptly answered this whale of a man, speaking in a thick 
wheezy gobbling voice, as if his larynx operated from under a pile of half- 
melted scrap-tallow, and puffing as he spoke. "Sorry to trouble you, sir, but 
it is necessary." And turning forwards the lapel of his coat he showed 
beneath it the broad silver badge of the Detective Service. At this corrobora- 
tion of the professional name on the visitor's card, the old gentlemen was more 
annoyed and mystified than before. The detective's broad, impassive counte- 
nance did not change, and his head remained motionless ; but his small, dull, 
grayish eyes just turned from Mr. Van Braam's puzzled face to the end of the 
hall and back, 

" Haven't you some little side room where we could be quite alone for a 
few moments?" he asked. 

Mr. Van Braam, without saying a word, showed the way into a small 
waiting-room, lit the gas, and handed his visitor a seat. He waddled over to a 
sofa, however, saying as he did so, in his fat wheezing way, 

"Thank ye; but I take sofys ginrally when I can git um. Chairs ain't 
much 'count for a man o' my build, anyway." 

The discomfort of the old gentleman arose to an extreme, as he sat wait- 
ing for this vast greasy man to reveal whatever horror there might be. But 
his conjectures were most wild. His own accounts and papers — he was, 
through the influence of Mr. Tarbox Button, Secretary of the Splosh Fire 
Insurance Company — he knew were correct. But had some defalcation been 
discovered in the office ? Had either of his two servant-girls been caught in 
any evil-doing? Had his solitary old dwelling been marked down by burglars, 
and was he to be prepared for their coming? He strove in vain to imagine 
what the mystery might be. In a thousand years, however, strive as he might, 
the poor old gentleman would never have dreamed of what would be implied in 
the very first words of the vast fat man, who after divers signs of reluctance, 
broke out, with a clumsy abruptness where he had meant to begin from afar 
off — 

" Is your daughter's health good? " 

Mr. Van Braam started, and looked at the detective with a blank 
astounded face, whiter, if possible, than usual; his mouth open, without a 


word. The officer instantly saw that the old man, far more sensitive than he 
had imagined, had received one of those shocks which for the moment anni- 
hilate all consciousness. Discomfited, he could only wait. In a few minutes, 
his host had somewhat recovered. The detective, rough police officer as he 
was, was no brute, and he instantly decided upon what he saw was the only 
possible method with such nervous subjects; for, he reflected, if the old gentle- 
man is this way, what must the young lady be ? It was very important, he 
also remembered that he had been told at headquarters in Mulberry street, on 
account of the very great respectability of the parties interested, that no more 
annoyance should be caused to any one, than was absolutely unavoidable, and 
that everything should be managed in the most quiet possible manner. " I'll 
take the line of not believing a word of it," said the officer to himself, " and of 
acting on their side entirely." Accordingly, when he saw that the old man 
was in a situation to hear what was said to him, he began again : 

"Ther ain't no 'casion to be troubled, Mr. Van Braam. No charges is 
made, and ther ain't no reason why ther should be. Fact is, I 'spose I might 
jest as well a sent the doctor as come myself." 

" I'm not very strong," interrupted the old man, faintly, but gaining a 
desperate angry courage as he went on, "and she's my only child. I can't 
stand this long. For God Almighty's sake do be quick. Out with it. Why 
the devil don't you tell me what's the matter without toasting me in hell like 
that for an hour? " 

"You're right, sir," said the man, without showing any ill humor — and 
indeed why should he? — 'T will. Certain parties has intimated that Miss Van 
Braam, bcin' delicate, and a little out of her head like, had accidently carried 
away a small passel o' lace from Jenks and Trainor's yesterday. Now it's very 
likely she ain't got it. Ef she has, of course she only took it by oversight. 
And tharc's no disposition to make trouble. What's wanted is to prevent it. 
They's some parties that would be very troublesome in sech cases. Jenks 
and Trainor 've b'en plegged to death a'most with this kinder thing now for 
near onto a year, and they're out of all patience. But all that's necessary is to 
jest oversee the young lady quietly, and sorter let on in her hearin' about some 
o' these kleptermaniacs being took up, and it's goin ruther hard with 'em." 

The long word which the detective evoked from the domains of modern 
sentimental criminality — or criminal sentimentality, — and which he flourished 
with an evident pride, like a strong man whirling a heavy Indian club, to show 
how easily he can do it, was the first out of all this singularly horrible discourse, 
that at all enlightened the shocked and confounded auditor. But when it came, 
it was enough. His anger disappeared as quickly as it had arisen, and an in- 
expressible sinking pain came in its stead. If any one can comprehend the 
terror, the agony, of a man who loves, who has but one to love, and who is old ; 
of a father who sees his daughter, his only beloved, and the desire of his eyes, 
not merely suffering, not merely in sorrow, but in danger of becoming the very 
scandal and sport of the dirtiest of publics — that of a great city — who sees her 
certainly ill, possibly monomaniac, and at the parting of the two ways that lead 
to the mad-house or to the police station — if any one can imagine the sharp 
deep misery of such a prospect, the hint of it is even too much ; and for any 
one who cannot, a library of detail could not paint it. 

But the external signs of the pain that evil news inflicts, are seldom so 
marked as is often supposed. And persons whose characters are strong by 
nature, or solidified by hard experiences of life, are more likely to seem 
impassible even, than to show what they feel. Age, again, often contributes a 
real insensibility, which is perhaps, the unconscious acquirement of the soul 


from whose relations with material and embodied existence threads are already 
beginning to unfasten. Mr. Van Braam, as a person of even spirituality, 
delicate organization, both physically and mentally, was as easily startled, old 
man as he had become, as any wild bird. So he would soon have fainted under 
sharp physical pain. But neither of these weaknesses belonged to his mind, 
any more than delicate lungs would belong to his mind. Accordingly, although 
the experienced detective had correctly judged by the physical symptoms, that 
his suggestion inflicted a fearful shock at first, yet he was surprised at the 
promptness at which the distress was mastered, and the degree of steadiness 
with which the trouble was faced, by this white and slender old man. 

"Well, Mr. Officer," he said, "you have done right to come to me. It is 
the first hint I have heard, of course. My daughter's health is not very strong, 
it is true " — 

Here it suddenly struck him that the best thing he could do was to let her 
condition seem bad rather than good. Evidently if the persons concerned in 
this demonstration were — as they were said to be — inclined to avoid exposure 
if the annoyance should cease, the best way to co-operate with them was to 
promise the supervision suggested, and to acquiesce in the necessity of it. 
Evidently, also, to talk big and be indignant and threaten, would be to insure a 
scandal. All this Mr. Van Braam saw, not by wording it over at such length, 
but at one flash, in the instant's pause as he said "true" — and he went on: 
— " and I have been a good deal troubled at some of her symptoms and some 
of her actions. But it is equally important that a careful watch should be kept, 
whether or not she is as badly off as the gentlemen at your office seem to 
think. I will do my best ; and if you employ some one, so much the better ; 
only she musn't know it." 

Some consultation now followed as to the sort of arrangement to be made ; 
it was decided that a quiet and unobtrusive observation should be maintained by 
the police ; and that some reason or other should be found for discontinuing or 
at least diminishing even the very modest actual indulgences of the young lady 
in what is called " shopping." And the officer further guaranteed that, if as he 
hoped (he said it with obvious sincerity), there was only a mistake, not another 
word should be heard about it by Mr. Van Braam or by anybody. And so the 
fat detective, — a singularly unsuitable person, Mr. Van Braam couldn't help 
thinking, physically at least, for such a profession — waddled away. 

After seeing him to the door, Mr. Van Braam returned to the parlor. His 
distress was so great, the effort to control it was becoming such a strain, and 
the irritability that in such temperaments as his always accompanies displeasure, 
was rising so fast and so strongly with him, that courteous gentleman as he 
naturally and habitually was, he was strongly tempted to hustle the two young 
men instantly out of the house on any or no pretense except that they must 

He only came quietly in, however, resumed his seat; and begun mechan- 
ically to turn over his papers. He said not a word. He did not notice, in the 
whirl of his perplexed thoughts, the sense of monstrous evil, the violent 
struggle to control himself, that his daughter seemed to be asleep and that the 
two young men were sitting as silent as she — for Chester, after a little while, 
had quietly resumed his seat without any motion or resistance from Miss Van 
Braam. But they both saw that something was wrong, the moment he entered ; 
and as he still turned and turned his papers mechanically, Chester, seeing what 
was proper, looked at his watch, exclaimed at the lateness of the hour, and arose 
to go. Scrope of Scrope, with creditable promptness, followed his example. 
The old man, arousing himself, gave them a very genuine invitation to call 


again and as often as they pleased, on the footing, indeed, he said, of well- 
•acquainted cousins. 

"Why, Civille," he exclaimed all at once ; " are you going to let our friends 
go without saying a word? — I do believe she's sound asleep ! " he continued, 
as she did not reply. He lifted the shade from the drop-light on the table and 
stepped over to her. She was perfectly still, her white teeth just showing 
between her lips, her head resting easily on the back of the chair, and breathing 
quietly and regularly. 

" Why, Civille, my child!" he said, laying his hand on her shoulder; 
" You do make your cousins very much at home, I think ! " And he shook her 
a little. 

Chester spoke. 

" Mr. Van Braam," he said, with embarrassment, " I'm afraid it's my fault. 
I never did such a thing before, but I think I put her asleep. I did not know 
it either, if it is so." 

The old man looked at him in amazement. Chester then told him just 
what he had done, and that they had been sitting in silence, not knowing 
whether she were awake and in pain or asleep and therefore relieved, but sup- 
posing that quiet was kindest in either case. 

Still with a confused look, Mr. Van Braam observed, "Asleep ! put her 
asleep? " 

"Magnetized," said Chester; "let me make some reversed passes. I've 
seen them do that ; if I did put her asleep, I can awaken her, at any rate." 

And holding his hands palms downward and flat, with the fingers towards 
her chin, he lifted them rapidly past her face throwing them apart above her 
forehead as if lifting and flinging back a veil. Half-a-dozen times he repeated 
the gesture, and paused. "Civille! " called the old man. They saw the pen- 
cilled eyebrows lift a little, as if in repeated efforts to open the eyes ; a 
distressed look came over the face; and one finger of the hand that rested 
uppermost in her lap, moved in an odd and restless way. 

Again Chester made the "reversed passes," saying at the last one, in a 
peremptory voice, "There; wake up ! " 

So she did ; opening her great gray eyes wide, with an innocent puzzled 
look like a child's. 

"Why, what is it?" she asked, startled at the three anxious faces gazing so 
intently at her. " Oh, — Cousin Adrian, you put me asleep didn't you ! " 

" It appears so," said the young man, gravely. " But I did not mean to. 
I wanted to relieve your headache." 

" You did. It's all gone. But my head is so sore ! It feels as if it had 
been pounded all over ! But that's nothing. Oh, thank you ! " 

"Ah," said he, with a troubled voice, — "but please don't have any such 
pain again ! " 

She smiled quietly. " I shall though, often enough? But I will try not to 
trouble you with it." 

" If I can cure it, Cousin Civille, please always trouble me with it ! " 

As they shook hands at going, Chester drew Mr. Van Braam one side, say- 
ing, just loud enough for the others to hear, 

"About this meeting," — and then dropping his voice, he quietly slid a 
card into the old man's hand, adding below his breath, 

" I thought you might perhaps not choose anybody else to see this ; I 
picked it up from the floor." 

It was the detective's card ; not engraved, but having on it in a sufficiently 
legible hand-writing, the words, "Amos Olds, Detective." 

(to be continued.) 



" The goodliest fellowship of noble knights 
Of whom the world hath record." 


The present issue of this magazine will, we 
believe, be found to be more antiquarian in trend 
and scope than its predecessor. This is largely 
intentional, prompted by frequent advice and 
natural inclination to make it truly representa- 
tive of the spirit of Colonial and Revolutionary 
days. We hesitated somewhat, wishing to make 
it as much a magazine for the younger folk as for 
the antiques and antiquarians • but the generous 
clientele it has already obtained, imbues us with 
the belief that all people are interested in ''old 
things" nowadays. 

The celebrated dictum of Bishop Warburton 
that " antiquarianism is to'true letters what spe- 
cious funguses are to the oak, which never shoot 
out and flourish till all the vigor and virtue of 
the grove are nearly exhausted," was doubtless 
true in his day, and true of the dry-as-dust pun- 
dits of his period. This opinion was given on the 
first appearance of Percy's " Reliques of Ancient 
Poetry," and was based on a false estimate of the 
aims and objects of literary antiquarianism. The 
modern antiquary, unlike his last century proto- 
type, passes by dead, and seizes only living*, issues. 
He can detect genuine literature under whatever 
form it is presented, and revivify the old days of 
"storm and stress" pioneering, in language as 
fitting as felicitous, knowing that the proper way 
to study the present is through the past. 

"We, who from our youth up," writes Sir 
Walter Scott, \* were accustomed to admire clas- 
sical models, became acquainted, for the first time, 
with a race of poets who had the lofty ambition 
to spurn the flaming boundaries of the universe 
and to investigate the realms of Chaos and Old 
Night." Scott, himself, took a plunge into Chaos 
and his revival of chivalric legends was the result. 
Southey also dashed into the realms of Old ftight, 
and revivified with his pen the Arthurian and 
other romances — the fountain-head of European 
romance ; he rediscovered to the world a new 
realm of beauty, brought back the reign of ro- 
mance, and the ideal school began life anew. 

And so, perhaps, in the beginning of the coming 
century, we shall have a reawakening in our 
country, as they in England in the beginning 
of the' last century— a revival of our national 
literature, history, legends, and poetical inspira- 
tion — and mayhap one shall arise as great as 
Scott, in our land, who shall carry on the work 
which Irving and Cooper only commenced and 
Hawthorne merely outlined. Surely, none of our 
nowaday novelists seem equal to this task, even 
if they had the inspiration and ambition. One 
must become steeped and saturated, as was Scott, 
in the legends and lore of his native land. And 
so, perhaps, we are doing well to cultivate a still 
fallow field, if only in small measure, by our 
present efforts. 

After all, is it not best to respect our forbears? 
Remember that the oldest form of worship in this 
world is ancestor-worship, and the most tena- 
cious ; it has not yet died out among all tribes of 
savagery. Besides, is it not true that we are all 
of us "antiquities" — for the world is very old? 
Bagehot, in a text we are fond of quoting, says ; 

"If we wanted to describe one of the most 
marked results — perhaps the most marked result 
— of late thought, we should say that by it every- 
thing Is made " an antiquity."* When in former 
times our ancestors thought of an antiquarian, 
they described him as occupied with coins and 
medals and Druid's stones,— these were then the 
characteristic records of the decipherable past, 
and it was with these that decipherers busied 
themselves ; but now there are other relics, — 
indeed, all matter is become such." 

" But what here concerns me is, that man 
himself has to the eye of science become 'an 
antiquity'; she tries* to # read, is beginning to 
read, knows she ought to read, in the frame of 
each man the result of a whole history of all 
his life, of what he is and what makes him so ; of 
all his forefathers, of what they were and what 
made them so. Each nerve has a sort of memory 
of its past life, — is trained or not trained, dulled 
or quickened, as the case may be ; each feature is 
shaped and characterized, or left loose and mean- 
ingless, as may happen : each hand is marked with 
its trade andlife, subdued to what it works in; 
if we could but see it." 

" It may be answered that in this there is 
nothing new : that we always knew how much a 
man's past modified a man's future ; that we all 
knew how much a man is apt to be like his 
ancestors; that the existence of national charac- 
ter is the greatest commonplace in the world : 
that when a philosopher cannot account for any- 
thing in any other manner, he boldly ascribes 'it 
to an occult quality in some race. But, what 
physical science does, is, not to discover the 
hereditary element, but to render it distinct, — to 
give us an accurate conception of what we may 
expect and a good account of the evidence by 
which we are led to expect it." 

" I do not think any who do not acquire— and 
it takes a hard effort to. acquire— this notion of a 
transmitted nerve element will ever understand 
the ' connective tissue ' of civilization. We have 
here the continuous force which binds age to age ; 
which enables each to begin with some improve- 
ment on the last, if the Tast did itself improve ; 
which makes each civilization not a set of de- 
tached dots, but a line of color surely enhancing 
shade by shade. There is by this doctrine a 
physical *cause of improvement from generation 
to generation ; and no imagination which has 
apprehended it can forget it ; but unless you 
appreciate that cause in its subtle materialism,— 



unless you see it, as it were playing upon the 
nerves of men, and age after age making nicer 
music from finer chords,— you cannot comprehend 
the principle of inheritance, either in its mystery 
or its power." 

One could quote endlessly from this charming 
essay on "Physics and Politics" which so easily 
connects evolution and sociology — but time 
presses. It is too vast a subject for our pages. 
We commend the essay to all lovers of evolution 
(and can only add that Bagehot's works are 
found complete, in this country, solely in the 
"Traveler's Bagehot" collected by Mr. Forrest 
Morgan.) And now comes Prof. E. D. Cope, of the 
University of Pennsylvania, giving nine "missing 
links " or ancestors' of man, tracing him back to 
paleozoic fishes ; we have only a garbled report 
of his deliverance, in reportorial parlance, but 
it makes very interesting reading. His theory 
would combine the Darwinian descent of man 
with the Drummondian theory of the ascent of 
man — which would reconcile Science and the 
Bible and prove the most generally acceptable 


Next to a knowledge of himself, man should 
have a love of nature deeply planted in his soul. 
That reminds me of an appropriate sentiment in 
this connection: "This is a work-a-day world, 
and blessed be the man with the time and happy 
taste to gather and put before us the choice bits 
which reveal us to ourselves." This is from a 
booklet, "From a New England Hillside," by 
William Potts, under which prosaic name is a 
rare personality— a man who really communes 
with nature. A poet is one among ten thousand, 
but one who studies, admires, and really knows 
nature is surely as scarce as a true poet. There 
are many who write of nature off-hand, as of a 
side-show to life and humanity, and there are 
others who can only, parrot-like, botanize and 
specialize and classify ; for the windows of book- 
stores are full of such books, telling us how to 
know wild-flowers and tame ones, the common 
birds and the uncommon ones, but what do they 
amount to except as a fad ; and how little they 
are of use to the real lover of nature who enters 
into her life and spirit, and communes with her, 
and to whom she in return " speaks a various 
language " ? 

Of course it is necessary to know of these 
details of nature in order to understand her 
moods, but let it not end here. Let us quote 
him : " You cannot know how much more enjoy- 
ment you could find in flowers and trees until you 
have looked into their history, and studied their 
faces, learned their characters, their habits and 
their dispositions. You must lie down upon the 
same nill-side, look up at the same sky, drink in 
the same air. You must learn to feel' your one- 
ness with them, and the strong family tie which 
makes everything that concerns them a matter of 
interest to you." 

"Novalis called Spinoza 'a God-intoxicated 
man.' Intoxication is not a pleasant word, — 
enthusiasm is better,— en-the-osiasm,' — and it 
is this entlmsiam, the gift of Nature and the 
imagination combined, the offspring of poetry 
and fact, — that is the greatest, the richest, bless- 
ing of life. 'I do not see in Nature the colors 
that you find there,' said the lady to Turner. 
'Don't you wish you could, madam?' was the 
reply. Suppose you try to look a little deeper, 
see a little further, turn the microscope upon 
your blossom, and discover a thousand beauties, 
the existence of which you never had suspected ; 

turn your telescope upon the heavens, and find 
them bursting into bloom, — world beyond world 
receding into the vast unfathomable depths of 
space ; believe me, you will not become blase 
with the extent of your knowledge, will not feel 
that the bloom is wholly gone from the peach, 
the perfume from the rose, the foam from the 
bounding wave." 

Said a woman of straight-laced creed to a 
noted scientist : " Do you not think, Professor, 
that Dr. Soandso should stand facing the east at a 
certain part of the ritual? " The scientist called 
her attention to the magnitude of the universe, 
the distance of the sun, only one of a million of 
suns, stunned her dwarfed' intellect with some 
grand figuies, and then, as her breath was fast 
ebbing away with astonishment, he concluded, 
" Madam, I do not think the creator of this vast 
universe cares two straws which way Dr. Soandso 
stands or faces. Let us avoid cant and think 
Only how insignificant we are and what a small 
part we are of nature." We have said that Mr. 
Potts is a man in direct sympathy with nature, as 
Thoreau, even Emerson at times, and as such we 
should appreciate him in our midst, for we have 
all too few genuine naturalists in the State. Mr. 
Burr of the Times is an enthusiastic lover of 
nature and his essay-editorials are altogether 
charming and timely when he deals with the 
daily aspects of nature, but an editor's life is too 
circumscribed to commune much with nature, 
and certainly too busy. 

When there is one who loves nature and can 
describe it well and often accurately, there are 
thousands who have not this gift and can only 
stand in awe and admiration of the miracles of 
nature before them, and be dumb. There are so 
few real nature-poets. Longfellow and Whittier 
are gone, and Celia Thaxter gave too infrequent 
outbursts into song from her island-home ; there 
are a few others but they are lost in the great 
whirl of the world, or their voices are drowned in 
the great Bablyon of voices of the artificial and 
decadent poets, or else they live in the city's busy 
marts and have no chance to commune with 
nature or to get "near to Nature's heart." I 
mind me of a sweet singer, but just gone from 
our midst, the friend of Whittier, Holmes, Long- 
fellow. Phillips Brooks, and although once but a 
simple factory girl and school-mistress to begin 
with, is surely entitled to rank with them in 
many ways. I mean Lucy Larcom. Years ago I 
read her simply autobiography " A New England 
Girlhood," and now am glad to learn that her life 
and letters have been published by the Riverside 
Press, and will no doubt be entitled to as many 
readers. She was a lovely soul, an American Jean 
lngelow, and one whose works will be treasured 
in much the same manner as those of her English 
prototype, because of personal affections for, and 
rare sympathy with, her readers. One almost 
desires the old days back when such people could 
live their simple happy lives over again for our 
benefit and example. Then, there was Rose Terry 
Cooke, the poet of the Farmington valley, of 
whom Mr. Simonds quotes a couple of stanzas ; 
we wish we had space here for the rest of the 
poem. "Thus sang Rose Terry in her cottage 
overlooking the river, with that vision always 
before her, I do not wonder that the song came 
to her. On the steep hillside the streets of white 
maible climb toward heaven from the busy man- 
ufacturing village, and their quietness in the 
broad glare ol day contrasts as strongly with 
the bustle below, if not so impressively, as under 
the cold light of the moon." " The singer herself 
now reposes (as to the physical part; in that 
village on the hill where there's 

Never a clock to toll the hours." 



If the race ol great nature poets is run, have 
we not some good prose writers extant who 
can preserve the communion with nature, or its 
tradition? Are there not some writers left who 
can describe nature as she exists, who are prose- 
poets in fact. In France we have Pierre Loti, in 
America (just now in Japan), we have Lafcadio 
Hearn. What a strange contrast to the quiet 
village-life of Lucy Larconi is that of this rare 
fleeting bird of passage, with brilliant plumage 
and flashing bravery! His life is eccentric, and 
exotic ; he is a literary orchid. His style is as 
varied and brilliantly colored as the rainbow, and 
as evanescent. Imagine a quaint, dark-skinned, 
slight man, with a soft, shrinking voice, near- 
sighted, timid, and retiring. His father was an 
Englishman and his mother a Greek, and he was 
born at Smyrna, but fate cast him on our shores. 
He began life as a newspaper writer in Ohio, 
drifted down the Mississippi among the Creoles, 
and described them before Cable, and a great 
deal better, beiiig so nearly akin in his owntem- 
perament. His work attracting the notice of a 
publisher, he was sent to the West Indies to 
write of the natives there. His amazing, dreamy 
sketches of the negroes, his familiarity with their 
patois, his pictures of their homes and habits, 
showed him a master of the pen and a genius. 
He seemed to have the mantle of Poe as a descrip- 
tive writer, and was just as indifferent to fame 
and fortune. Five years ago he went to Japan, 
married, and is there now, engaged as a teacher 
in a local college, and has a son of whom he is 
very proud. He has mastered their language, 
studied the Japanese with the same care as other 
semi-tropical natives he has written about, and 
his recent works on Japan are as thorough 
studies of that newly-awakened quarter of the 
globe as can be found. Lowell, Griffis, Pierre 
Loti, Bayard Taylor, Sir Edwin Arnold, have all 
told their tale, but do not enter into the personal 
life of the people as do the works of Hearn, of 
which he has written several, all of which show 
his sympathetic insight, thorough understanding 
of the people and country,— and all enveloped in 
his glowing, matchless style. As a stylist he has 
now, we think, no superior in this country. 


It is appropriate that we tender a tribute to 
those who have contributed to the present issue, 
to make it what it is, and "to render unto Caesar 
the things which are Caesar's ;" and this we do 
gladly. The Short Beach article was a happy 
inspiration of the artist, Mr. Reckard. who has 
paid a delicate compliment in his pages to his 
poet-friend that she well deserves. It will be 
welcomed by her many admirers as a means 
of making her acquaintance. We also present 
several of his fine art-works, including another 

Mr. Frank L. Hamilton, a former Hartford 
" boy," but now of Meriden, gives us an insight 

into the old Argonaut days, in his happy vein ; 
among the people of whom he writes will be 
recognized the names of many citizens of both 
cities, most of them now dead or well advanced 
in life. Mr. Ezra Clark, Mr. Milo Hunt and others 
remain to corroborate the story. Clinton is 
treated by Miss Peck in a graphic manner, show- 
ing the same felicity in prose as in verse. She is 
achieving distinction and a wider hearing of late, 
that is very gratifying to her friends and to the 
modest " Colonial poet" herself. 

Canton could not perhaps be treated better 
than by the pen of the Hon. Wm. E. Simonds, its 
distinguished citizen, who is thoroughly conver- 
sant with its local history. Mr. Simonds and 
General Franklin are the only two citizens of 
this vicinity entitled to wear ''the red ribbon 
of France," the badge of the Legion of Honor. 
The author of ''Trio and Tripod," who modestly 
insists upon hiding under a nom de plume, has 
given a complete and accurate account of New- 
gate and vicinity, in his gossipy style. " Bits 
from Great Grandmother's Journal" by the late 
Mrs, Bartlett, are fragments taken down from the 
lips of her grandmother, who used to live opposite 
Miss Porter's famous school, and written out for 
the benefit of her daughter*, Miss Bartlett, of New 
Britain ; this article will please antiquarians; the 
old may refresh their memories while the young 
will learn much of the old days. Of Miss Larned's 
sketch the same may be said, in equal measure, 
although more seriously historical. 

We are fortunate in being able to present the 
first installment of Prof. Allen's " Old Time Music 
and Musicians," upon which he has been engaged 
for a long time, especially for our pages. He 
brings the record down to Revolutionary days 
and it will grow in interest as it proceeds. Hon. 
A. H. Byington, of Norwalk, has written graph- 
ically of his home, in the hurried intervals of an 
editor's life, and while making preparations to go 
abroad. " Historic Homes" will be found to be 
replete with stirring facts, and like its predeces- 
sors, disclose many new items which are unknown 
to the general reader. The poetry of the number, 
we bebeve is up to the average of previous issues, 
'•Old Colonial Characters" is omitted until next 
issue, as also Mr. H. W. Benjamin's article on the 
new parks, for want of space. They will reappear 
in the next number. The departments are some- 
what curtailed also, and the Musical department 
omitted entirely as Prof. Allen's article takes its 
place, we believe satisfactorily. 


' Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, 
Wherein he puts alms for oblivion. 

'While place we seek or place we shun, 

The soul finds happiness in none 

But with a God to lead the way 

'Tis equal joy to go or stay." — Madame Guion. 



The admission into the churches of '.' covenant- 
ers" of "'half-way covenant" members was the 
final outcome of a long and bitter ecclesiastical 
controversy, which waged throughout New Eng- 
land about'the middle of the seventeenth century. 
A full account of this controversy would fill" a 
volume, but, briefly stated, it is as follows : 

Baptism was considered essential and all, even 
to the infant but a few days old. who died unbap- 
tized, were firmly believed to be doomed to 
everlasting punishment. Children must be 
offered for baptism by a parent or other near 
relative who was a church member. After bap- 
tism they were considered as being under the 
watch of the church, and it was expected that 
upon arriving at mature years they would become 
members. An essential to membership, however, 
was a personal experience of divine grace. A» 
many persons, though baptized, lacked this per- 
sonal experience or regeneration, they were held 
to be unfit to become members of, and communi- 
cants with, the visible church ; even though they 
believed, as many of them did, in all the articles 
of faith and doctrine of the church and lived lives 
that were above criticism. 

To these unregenerate persons, believing as 
they did in all the doctrines of the church, 
especially in the necessity for baptism, the refusal 
of the church to receive their children in baptism 
was a hardship too great to be borne without 
strong protest. And so great was the pressure 
brought upon the churches in this matter, that 
they reluctantly consented to allow '• all such 
persons, who are of an honest and goodly conver- 
sation, having a competency of knowledge in the 
principles of religion and shall desire to joyne 
with them in church-fellowship, by an explicit 
covenant ; and that they have their children bap- 
tized." Thus it came about that the churches 
had two distinct classes of members — the one, 
members in the fullest sense of the word and 
communicants at the Lord's table — the other 
class, those who owned the half-way covenant, 
were members in that they acknowledged the 
creed and principles of the church, were subject 
to the rules and discipline, and could pre- 
sent their children for baptism ; but they were 
considered as unregenerate and could not partake 
of the Lord's supper. Oftentimes, those who had 
previously "owned covenant," that is, the half- 
way covenant, would, •' taking ye Vows of ye 
Lord upon them," be received into full com- 


There has come to us since our last number was 
in print, a handsome octavo volume of 340 pages, 
which should be of universal interest to all stu- 
dents of the history of Connecticut. It is the 
third volume of the collections of the Connecticut 
Historical Society, which has been recently issued 
under the editorship of the Society's president, 
State Librarian Charles J. Hoadly. and at the ex- 
pense of two Hartford citizens, ex-Governor M. 
G. Bulkeley, and General Wm. H. Bulkeley. 

The major portion of the volume, and the part 
about which the chief interest centers, is the 
work written in 1692, by Gershom Bulkeley and 
printed for the first time in the collections of the 
Connecticut Historical Society. Mr. Bulkeley. 
the minister for some years at New London, and 
later at Wethersfield, both of which pastorates he 
was forced by ill-health to resign, was a man of 
more than ordinary abilities. Later, he took up 
the practice of law and medicine, and his 
writings show a trained legal mind. His book, 
here printed, "Will and Doom, or the miseries of 
Connecticut by and under an usurped and arbi- 
trary power," is, in short, a political history of the 
colony, written in answer to several pamphlets 
which had been issued by James Fitch, and with a 
particular view to showing that the resumption 
of the charter government by the colony, after 
the accession of William and Mary to the throne 
of England, and the imprisonment of Sir Edmund 
Andros in Boston, was both legally and morally 
an arbitrary action and an assumption of power 
which could not be justified. 

To begin the book is to read the whole of it, for 
upon reaching the text, after a somewhat dreary 
preface, the clear-cut and direct style in which 
the arguments and reasonings are given attracts 
and holds the attention, in spite of the biased and 
often prejudiced view which Mr. Bulkeley 
evidently takes, a view which makes one wonder 
if his long ill-health is not the result of dyspepsia. 
Beginning with the first settlement of the 
colony, he notes the making of their laws without 
authority and without allegiance to any power, 
and how, after the restoration of Charles II. they 
wisely petitioned him for a charter which was 
freely granted. This charter, although it granted 
the colonists power to erect courts, make laws, 
establish military, lay taxes, etc., was in itself 
only an instrument creating a highly privileged 
company and was, of course subsidiary in every 
respect to the power which had granted it — the 



English throne. However, the colony, after 
receiving the charter, apparently considered itself 
as independent of the throne, and as a sov- 
ereignty in itself, equal to and not accountable to 
any. Its laws differed in many ways from the 
English laws and, even to the death punishment 
were executed in the name of the Governor and 
Company and not of the King. Soon after the 
accession of James the Second, the colony was 
served with a writ of quo warranto, and fearing 
that they might be united with one of the other 
colonies, they petition the king for a continuance 
of their present government, but if a change is to 
be made, they ask for annexation to Massachu- 
setts rather than to New York. This is done, and 
Sir Edmund Andros is commissioned to govern 
Connecticut, with the other New England colo- 
nies. He comes with his guard to Hartford, is 
received with respect, causes his commission to 
be read, appoints the Governor and deputy 
Governor members of his council, gives commis- 
sioned offices to the other colony officials and 
takes the government into his own hands. Thus 
matters continue for eighteen months, but in the 
meantime, the people have been planning and 
plotting some way to resume the charter govern- 
ment, and at the news of the overthrow of Andros 
at Boston, a summons is hurriedly sent to the 
towns to appoint representatives to meet in gen- 
eral court. On the day previous to that fixed for 
the meeting, the deputies who had gathered held 
a solemn conclave as to what action should be 
taken and decided that those should be reap- 
pointed who were in office when Andros took the 
government. Thus was the charter government 
resumed, in direct opposition, says Bulkeley, to 
the actual desire of a large portion of the people. 
He then elaborates, in many pages, his reasons 
why the charter was wholly void, although it had 
never been given up and also the hardships which 
have befallen many on account of the tyrannical 
setting up again of this dead government. Tn 
spite of the shock which they give to our pre- 
vious ideas upon the subject, 'it cannot be ques- 
tioned that many of Mr. Bulkeley's points are well 
taken, and his arguments unanswerable. 

In the volume of Collections is also printed for 
the first time, a "Memoir relating to Connecti- 
cut," written by the Hon. Roger Wolcott, when in 
his eighty-first year, in which he briefly traces 
the principal events in the history of the colony 
up to 1759. Directly contrary to the impression 
given by Bulkeley, is Wolcott's statement that 
upon the resumption of the Charter government, 
in 1689, " I never see a day of rejoicing in Con- 
necticut like this." 

The extracts from letters to the Rev. Thomas 
Prince, comprises forty-five pages of the volume. 
These extracts, made in 1772 by Rev. Benj. Trum- 
bull, from letters written nearly- forty years 
previously, give brief outline sketches of the 
principal events in each town in the colony ; many 
curious facts and incidents are here gathered. 

The writer of this feels unable to do justice to 
the remaining section of the Volume, "Some 
Helps for the Indians, showing them how to 
improve their natural reason to know the true 
God and the Christian religion," by the Rev. 
Abraham Pierson. This rare and curious tract of 
237 years ago, is here reprinted with an introduc- 
tion by that learned Indian scholar, Hon. J. 
Hammond Trumbull. It is the earliest effort of 
an early New England minister, aided by a Lon- 
don corporation, to bring the natives under the 
influence of the Christian religion. Mr. Pierson 
was the minister at Branford, Conn., and his 
catechism is the only book printed in any Indian 
dialect of that section, as well as the earliest book 
by a Connecticut author printed in this country. 

While on the subject of revolutionary times we 
may mention that Charles Carleton Coffin, the 

well-known writer of war-stories, has gone back 
to revolutionary days and written a historical 
romance, " Daughters of the Revolution," which 
is a happy portraiture of the domestic, social and 
political life of the colonies. Most of the people 
were actual historical personages, or if not, they 
were at least typical and not far-fetched ; it is in 
fact a blending of the real and ideal in proper 
proportions, and is in the main true to historical 
details and vraisemblance. We believe this work 
will be welcomed and widely read by all " D. A. 
R.," members, and we commend it as a style of 
writing which should have a new vogue, in which 
Scott and our own Mrs. Stowe were pioneers. 


Prizes were awarded on the 19th of April, the 
anniversary of the battle of Lexington, by the 
Connecticut Society, to pupils in the schools of 
Connecticut, as follows : To pupils in the high 
schools, for essays on " The Share of Connecticut 
in the War of the Revolution." The awards were : 

J. Moss Ives, Danbury, the first prize, $20; 
Joseph Cooke Pullman, Bridgeport ; Curtis Howe 
Walker, New Haven ; Ray Morris, New Haven; 
Floyd H. Dusinberre, Bristol ; Emma Comstock 
Bonfoey. Hartford : and Harry Davenport, 
Bridgeport, second prizes of $5. Helen Flora 
Newton, Woodbridge ; Mark W. Norman, South 
Norwalk ; and George Ellery Crosby, Hartford ; 
honorable mention. 

To pupils of common schools, the awards were : 
Lawrence Augustus Howard, Hartford, essay on 
" Nathan Hale," first prize, $20. Ruth A. Curtis, 
Hartford, subject " An Unknown Hero ;" Robert 
Shannon, Hartford, subject, "Nathan Hale;" 
Joseph Hooker Woodward, Hartford, subject, 
" Benedict Arnold ; " Mildred E. Camp, Hartford, 
subject, "Israel Putnam;" Bessie E. La Pierre, 
Norwich, subject, "William Williams;" and 
James J. Kavanaugh, Meriden, subject "Nathan 
Hale ;" second prizes of $5. Phoebe Beale, Ber- 
lin, subject, " Connecticut Men of Mark of the 
Revolution;" Helen S. Partitz, Meriden, sub- 
ject, " Captain John Couch;" John J. McCabe, 
New Hartford, subject, "Nathan Hale;" and 
Mabel S. Vaughn, Norwich, subject, "Nathan 
Hale ;" honorable mention. 

The annual meeting of the Society was held 
May 10, 1895. in Putnam Phalanx Hall, Hartford. 
President Jonathan Trumbull, Hartford, was in 
the chair, and delivered an address. The reports 
of the secretary, registrar, treasurer, and his- 
torian, were read and approved. Reports were 
also presented by the Committee on Necrology, 
Jonathan Flynt Morris, chairman, the General 
David Humphreys Branch of New Haven, the 
Captain John Couch Branch of Meriden, the Gen- 
eral Gold Selleck Silliman Branch of Bridgeport, 
and the Israel Putnam Branch of Norwich. 
Officers for the ensuing year were elected as 
follows, viz : 

President. Jonathan Trumbull, Norwich ; vice- 
president, Edwin Seneca Greeley, New Haven ; 
registrar, Frank Butler Gay, Hartiord ; secretary, 
Charles P. Cooley, Hartford ; historian, Joseph 
Gurley Woodward, Hartford ; treasurer, John 
Clark Holiister, New Haven ; chaplain, Edwin S. 
Lines, New Haven. Board of Managers : Hobart 
L. Hotchkiss, Everett Edward Lord, William 
Erasmus Chandler, Franklin Henry Hart, New 
Haven ; Jonathan Flynt Morris, Meigs Hayward 
Whaples, and Bennet Rowland Allen, Hartford ; 
Edgar J. Doolittle, Meriden ; Zalmon Goodsell, 
Rowland Bradley Lacey, Bridgeport; Henry 
Roger Jones, New Hartford; Francis Taylor 
Maxwell, Rockville ; Frank Farnsworth Starr. 
Middletown ; Loren A. Gallup, Norwich ; and 
Rufus White Griswold. Rocky Hill. 



Delegates to the National Society : H. Wales 
Lines, Meriden ; Henry Baldwin Harrison, New 
Haven ; Edward Morris Warner, Putnam ; Frank 
J. Narramore. Bridgeport : Russell Frost, South 
Norwalk ; John Hoyt Perry, Southport ; Lucius 
Franklin Robinson, Hartford ; Samuel E. Merwin, 
New Haven ; William De Loss Love, Hartford ; 
Alfred Hebard Chappell, New Haven; and Henry 
Woodward, Middietown. The year book, cover- 
ing the years 1893-4, is nearly through the press, 
and, accidents excepted, it will be distributed to 
members shortly. 



While there is so much interest shown in socie- 
ties basing their claims on revolutionary ancestry, 
it may not be out of order to call especial 
attention to one composed of officers of the late 
war, to which too little notice is paid in this sec- 
tion of the country. One or two decades from 
now there will be a scramble to get into this order 
or its junior branch, after all the old heroes are 
dead. This order was engendered, in the closing 
years of the war, in tie active brain of Colonel 
Samuel B. Wylie Mitchell, now deceased, who had 
a genius for organization ; he also instituted the 
Phi Kappa Sigma fraternity in college and was a 
prominent Mason, and a "jiner" of great note; 
as he facetiously said : He ''belonged to almost 
everything but Mrs. Mitchell." It is much like 
the revolutionary order of the Cincinnati. 

We give below the latest roster for this state: 
Stephen Ball, Second Lieut 12th. Conn. Infantry, 
Hartford; Morgan G. Bulkeley, member by inher- 
itance from his brother, (private 13th H. A. N. Y. 
S. M. ,) Hartford; George D. Chapman, Colonel 
5th Conn. Infantry, Middietown ; Frank W. 
Cheney, Lieut.-Col. 16th Conn. Infantry, South 
Manchester ; Charles P. Clark, Acting Vol. Lieut., 
U. S. N., New Haven ; Henry C. D wight, captain 
27th Mass. Infantry, Hartford ; Joseph F. Field, 
1st Lieut. Second Mass. H. A., Harttord ; Charles 
J. Fuller, Capt. 13th Conn. Infantry, Hartford; 
Charles W. Harris, captain, 7th Mich. Infantry, 
Middietown ; Charles F. Hildreth, surgeon 40th 
Mass. Infantry, Hartford ; George C. Jarvis, sur- 
geon 7th Conn. Infantry. Hartford ; John B. 
Lewis, surgeon, brevet colonel U. S. V., Hart- 
ford ; Matthew T. Newton, surgeon 10th Conn. 
Infantry. Suffield ; Walter Pearce, Acting Master 
U. S. N., Hartford ; George Pope, Lieut.-Col. 54th 
Mass. Infantry, Hartford ; Edward V. Preston, 
major, paymaster U. S. V , Hartford ; Alfred P. 
Rockwell, Col. 6th Conn. Infantry, brevet briga- 
dier-general, New Haven; Henry P. Stearns, 
surgeon, brevet Lieut.-Col. U. S. V., Hartford; 
William H. H. Wooster, 1st Lieut. R. Q. M., 6th 
Conn Infantry. Mr. Henry Ellsworth Taintor, of 
Hartford, is the last member from this city. 


On the 17th of June. 1895, the Society of 
Colonial Wars celebrated the one hundred and 
fiftieth anniversary of the surrender of the fortress 
at Louisburg, Cape Breton, to New England 
troops, under Lieut.-General Pepperell, assisted 
by the British fleet under Commodore Warren. 
This is the most memorable occasion in the his- 
tory of this young society. Addresses was made 
by the Governor-General of the society, Frederick 
J. de Peyster, Esq., representatives of the dif- 

ferent states, Dr. J. G. Bourinot, C. M. G. r 
representing the Royal Society of Canada, and 
others, including a descendant of Sir William 
Pepperell, Hon. Everett Pepperreli Wheeler. 
Not the least interesting feature of the celebra- 
tion was the beautiful Tiffany medal, struck from 
the metal of an old brass cannon found upon a 
French frigate blown up in the harbor during the 
siege. • It contains profiles of Sir William Pepper- 
reli and Sir Peter Warren. The medals are two 
inches wide and some are suspended from the 
colors of the Society, — a scarlet moire silk rib- 
bon, with a narrow white border. 

We beg to congratulate Dr. Ward on the 
tasteful and appropriate literature gotten out for 
the Society under his supervision, which can best 
be described under only two words, choice and 
chaste ! There can no fault be found with it, by 
even the most fastidious and sybaritic critic— Ed. 


At the opening of the April meeting President 
Hoadly presented to the society the newly pub- 
lished volume of " Collections," the third in 
number but the fourth to be issued. It was 
received with pleasure by the members and suit- 
able votes of thanks were passed to Messrs. M. G. 
and W. H. Bulkeley, for defraying the cost of 
printing the volume,' and to the president for his 
labors as editor. The paper of the evening was 
by Mr. P. H. Woodward on early marine insurance 
in Connecticut, in which sketches were given of 
many prominent business men of Hartford and 
vicinity, whose early efforts laid the foundation 
of the large insurance interests of the state. 

The paper at the May meeting was by Mrs. 
Ellen Terry Johnson, on the Bermudas in 1792. 
It was based on the correspondence of the Wads- 
worth family of Hartford, and gave an interesting 
picture of domestic life on the islands, and of 
the difficulties of procuring many things which 
would here be considered as necessities. Mr. 
Jonathan F. Morris presented an interesting relic 
in the shape of a wooden maul used by Abraham 
Lincoln in splitting rails. Mr. Morris gave the 
history of the relic and read the documents and 
affidavits proving its authenticity. 

At the annual meeting, on the 21st, the presi- 
dent and most of the other officers were 
re-elected. Mr. James Terry was chosen vice- 
president in place of Franklin B. Dexter, 
resigned, and T. S. Gold in place of Robbins 
Battell, deceased. The annual reports showed 
the society to be in a prosperous condition. The 
membership had increased since the last report ; 
the use of the library is large ; and the number of 
visitors to the exhibition hall is many. 

The annual outing of the society occurred on 
June 11, when about fifty members and their 
friends visited the historic spots above New Lon- 
don and Groton. All reported an enjoyable time. 

The library has received a valuable addition in 
the gift by Miss Clara Field, of Stockbrdge. 
Mass., of over four hundred volumes, besides 
valuable manuscripts, formerly belonging to the 
late David Dudley Field, 





The criminal classes are so close to us that even a policeman can see them. They are so far away from us that only 

poet can understand them." 


Section 4, in the Act incorporating the Con- 
necticut Humane Society, reads as follows : 
" The purpose of the society is to promote 
humanity and kindness, and to prevent cruelty to 
both men and the lower animals, by information, 
statistics, appropriate literature, and by any and 
all other lawful means which they may deem wise 
and best, and by assisting In the prosecution of 
crimes of a cruel and inhuman nature ; and gen- 
erally to encourage justice and humanity, and 
to discourage injustice and inhumanity." 

ARTICLE 2, of the Constitution, reads thus: 
"Its objects are to provide effectual means for 
the prevention of cruelty, and especially of 
cruelty to animals, and to promote a humane 
public sentiment." 

It is apparent that the opportunity for work is 
practically without limit. Complaints which are 
constantly made, are almost endless in variety. 
It is the purpose of the officers in charge to deal 
with those cases where there is cruelty —or injus- 
tice, which amounts to cruelty. 

Children have been committed to the County 
Home on evidence that their surroundings were 
immoral. Some courts have held that such 
cruelty exceeded that of physical pain or punish- 
ment, because they might recover from the effects 
of cruel whipping but not from that of Immoral 
influence. A law recently passed by the present 
legislature, places the expense of the care of 
neglected and dependent children on the towns 
to which they belong. Heretofore, such expense 
has been borne by the state. 

The society has been uniformly successful in its 
prosecutions during the past quarter, having lost 
but three cases. One instance, where a man 
cruelly beat his horse until it Anally died, the 
court imposed a fine of $2 — justice being tem- 
pered with mercy. A light penalty sometimes, 
however, has the desired effect, the object in view 
being to prevent rather than punish. 

Electricity is relieving the society in the cities 
throughout* the state, yet the demands upon it are 
increasing. Humane sentiment is growing, and 
gratifying as this may be, it is a fact that in mat- 
ters humane we are yet far behind Great Britain 
and other European countries. 

~~^dLe^£/ (5 0^/^U^ 



We have received a pleasing little volume under 
the above title, including essays on Socialism by 
the Fabian Society of England, edited by G. Ber- 
nard Shaw, and the American edition introduced 
by Edward Bellamy. The Fabian motto is : 
" For the right moment you must wait, as Fabian 
did, most patiently, when warring against Hanni- 
bal, though many censured his delays ; but when 
the time "comes you must strike hard, as Fabian 
did, or your waiting will be vain and fruitless." 
Some of these essays "strike hard," perhaps 
harder than is necessary at this stage, but at any 
rate they are earnest and often convincing. If 
one wishes to get a good idea of socialsm in all its. 

ramifications this little book, that slips easily into 
the pocket, is surely the vade meeum. Bellamy 
calls Socialism "the application of the democratic 
method to the economic administration of a 
people." But, before Socialism can prevail in 
the governmental administration of economic 
affairs, a most Herculean task must be accom- 
plished, the complete cleaning of the Augean 


Mr. Charles A. Briggs, of heterodox fame, is 
engaged in the compilation of a series of volumes, 
which the Scribners are bringing out, and the 
third volume has just appeared, with the above 
title. The first was "The Messianic Prophecy," 
in 1886 ; the second, " The Messiah of the Gos- 
pels," in 1894 ; and it is his purpose to continue 
the series with "The Messiah of the Church," and 
" The Messiah of the Theologians," if life and 
health are given to him. This is a very elaborate 
and laudable plan, and we hope it will be accom- 
plished. The present volume is the result of 
matured convictions and discipline of many years' 
duration, and he regards it as the ripe confession 
of his faith. It is at least worthy of more than 
transient study, in this transitional period of the 
creeds, analogous somewhat to the old Norse 
"twilight of the gods." 


When found, make a note of." — Capt. Cuttle. 

Please remember that a nominal charge of twenty-five 
cents is made for these queries, in advance, and they are not 
to exceed ten lines. We welcome queries; but we wish 
friends would help the editor to answer them, as his duties 
are onerous enough in other directions. Very little help has 
been given in this direction. 

Gardiner — Ledyard. — "In the article on the Center 
Church burying-ground, did not Miss Mary K. Talcott err 
in stating that Lyon Gardiner the first Lord of Gardiner's 
Island was there buried? Is it not his son David, the second 
proprietor? Also, was not Col. Wm. Ledyard murdered 
Sept. 6? B. C. A. 

Gorham. — Timothy Gorham, born 14 Sept., 1785, died 15 
Jan , 1863. Wanted names of parents and grand-parents. 
This querist should at least give some locality for birth or 

Mason. — Captain John Mason of Pequot war fame, had a 
son John who married Abigail Fitch and begat John 3d. The 
latter married his cousin Anne, (Samuel's daughter) who bore 
him John Mason 4th, at Lebanon, in 1702. He was baptized 
in Stonington in 1706. Can you give me any information 
respecting John 4th, where he settled, who he married, and 
when and where he died; it is for the Mason genealogy, 
being compiled by L. B. Mason, New York City. 

J. K.Mason, M.D., Suffield, Conn. 

Perhaps Jas. Fitch Mason, of Lebanon, canthelp you to 
the data. 

McDonol'GH. — We are informed that Commodore McDon- 
ough's grave at Middletown, is over-grown with sumac, fences 
are down, and it is badly neglected. The editor had a great- 
uncle who was chaplain under him, on Lake Champlain, and 
would like to see some society take hold of this matter, and 
keep the grave respectable. Also, can not his portrait be 
gotten for the Historical Society, formerly at the hotel in 

Williams. — Jos. Williams and his wife Mary lived at 
Norwich. He had recorded in the Norwich town records in 
1750, the birth of eleven children, and was made a citizen of 
Norwich in 1702. Who was he? From whence did he come 
to Norwich? F. A. Verplanck, South Manchester, Conn. 



Building and Loan Association. 

General Office, Charter Oak Bank Building:, 
Hartford, Conn. 

Has an authorized Guarantee Fund ot $250,000, of which 
$50,000 in cash has been paid in. 

George E. Keenrt, President. 

Rockwell Keeney, Vice-President. 
Edgar C. Linn, Secretary. 

George W. Hodge, Treasurer. 


John H. Buck, Ass't State Attorney, with Buck k Eggleston, 

Attorneys, Hartford, Conn. 


Hon. E. Stevens Henky, Rockville, Conn., Treasurer of 

People's Savings Bank; United States Congressman, First 

Connecticut District. 
Hon. Patrick Garvan, Hartford, Conn., Paper and Paper 

Stock Manufacturer; Ex-State Senator; Director State 

R. B. Parker, Hartford, Conn., President of Hartford Life and 

Annuity Insurance Co.; Director First National Bank; 

Cotton Manufacturer. 
Hon. Georgb*E. Keeney, Sotnersville, Conn., Treasurer Som- 

ersville Manufacturing Co. ; Ex- State Senator. 
Hon. George W. Hc.dge, Hartford, Conn., Treasurer of the 

State of Connecticut; Paper Manufacturer. 
E. C. Hilliard, Hartford, Conn , Woolen Manufacturer; Vice- 
President of the Hartford Life and Annuity Insurance 

Co. ; Director First National Bank. 
Hon. E. C. Pinney, Stafford, Conn., President of Stafford 

Savings Bank; Woolen Manufacturer; Ex-State Senator. 
Rockwell Keenby, Somersville, Conn., President of thti 

Somersville Manufacturing Co. 
E. C. Linn, Hartford, Conn., Secretary Connecticut Building 

and Loan Association. 

Shareholders guaranteed against any loss of their Capital 

Maturity of Shares at once in the event of Death. 

Cancellation of the Borrower's Mortgage at once in the 
event of Death. 

No Membership, Admission or Entrance Fees. 

Installment Shares, 50 cents per share per month A 
limited amount of 6 per cent. Coupon Shares for sale at par. 

Fur further information, apply to the General Office. 



BOOKS OF ALL KINDS. Town Reports, 



Printing of 
every kind. 

We Solicit your Patronage, and will be 
Pleased to have you call on us. 

Our Telephone Number is 649. 

The Hartford 
Printing Co., 

Etlhu deer's Sons, HARTFORD, CONN. 


We have a Library of City Directories of all the principal 

cities in the country; also, Foreign Directories, for 

free reference. 


Price 50 cents a year, (4 numbers,) payable in advance. Single copies 15 cents. 

Remittances should be by Check, Express Money Order, P. O. Order, or Registered Letter. Money 
by mail at sender's risk. 

All subscriptions taken with the understanding that they expire after four numbers have been 
sent, unless renewed by the subscriber. When change of address is desired give both the old and 
new address. 

Agents wanted in every town in the State to get subscriptions. Write for terms, etc. 

As the editions of Numbers 1 and 2 are exhausted, we are obliged to begin all subscriptions with No. 3. 
We can procure a few of No. 1 for persons desiring them at $1.00 each. 


P. O. Box, 565, Hartford, Conn. 

CAUTBON.— Do not pay money to persons unknown to you. Our authorized agents have full credentials. 



As used with 
Palmer's adj'tble 
Single Hitch 
Hook. Tat. 

As used with 
Palmer's adj'tble 
Single Hitch 
Rin . Pat. 
\pril 20, 1886. 

Valance Pat'd 

May 2i, '89 

Cut No. 0120— V. 

Valance Pat'd 
May 17, '92. 

Palmer Hammocks have never been equalled. They aie and always have been Hip 
standard in Material, Construction and Design. The continual efforts to imitate and infringe 
have been without success and Palmer Hammocks still lead every make. Made in over 100 
styles and in greater quantity than all others combined. 

Be sure you get a "Palmer Patent Hammock." If your dealer does 
not have them be sure that he Rets you one. 

I. E. PALMER, Middletown, Conn. 

Manufacturer of Canopies, Nettings, Hammock Attachments, Crinoline Linings, Etc. Trade supplied only. 

The Rogers & Hamilton Co., 







The Hartford Fire Insurance Company , 

Mas a Capital of One and One-quarter Million Dollars. Has a Net Surplus of over Two 
and One-half Million Dollars. Has Total Assets of over Eight and One-half Million Dollars. 
Ha? paid over Forty-six Million Dollars in Losses. 

GEO. L. CHASE, President 

P. C. Royce, Secretary. 

jTHOS. TURNBULL, Ass't Secretary. 
\ CHAS. E. CHASE, Ass't Secretary. 

Metropolitan Department, No. 50 Wall St., New York. YOUNG & HODGES, Managers. 

Western Department, Chicago, 111. G. F. BISSELL, Manager; P. P. HEYWOOD, Ass't Manager. 

Pacific Department, San Francisco, Cal. BELDEN & COFRAN, Managers. 

Agencies In all the Prominent Localities throughout the United States and Canada. 

Please mention The Connecticut Quarterly. 



Savings Society 


GEORGE POPE, President. Assets Over $6^0,000 

Issues Six per cent. Coupon Certificates 

In denominations of $200, $500 and $1,000, at $208 per share, 
(par value $200 per share). Certificates redeemable after one year 
at par, at option of holder. 

For information address, 

FRANCIS A. CRUM, Agency Manager, 

at the Society's Principal Office, No. 40 Pearl St., Hartford, Conn. 


Bartlett Tower 



Excursion Tickets sold daily at Station of Phila. 
Reading and Central N. E. R. R., Hartford good on all 
Passenger trains leaving Hartford, for one or more 
passengers stopping at Tower Station ; where conveyance 
one-third of a mile, will, if desired, be furnished to 

TICKETS, 75 Cents both ways. 
Children, 50 Cents. 

Tower Conveyance from Station to Tower, 10 cents. 

Wednesdays and Saturdays, cheap days. Excursion 
Tickets, 50 Cents. 

Parties of ten taken from Tower to Newgate and 
return, including admission, 60 cents each person. 

Parties of four, 75 cents each person. 

M. H. BARTLETT, Proprietor. 


Season closes October 15th. 


The Prison and convict caverns are wonderfully 
interesting. Experienced attendants, accommo- 
dations for picnic parties and good tennis court. 
Beautiful views from observatory, covering a 
distance of over seventy miles. A room of the old 
keeper's house built in 1790, 37 years after Newgate 
was first used as a prison, has been devoted to a 
collection of relics pertaining to the prison and 
revolutionary war. 


Trains on the Northampton Div. Nos. 620 and 
610 north bound, and 603, 621 and 625 south bound 
stop at Copper Hill, flag station, fifteen minutes 
walk from Newgate. From July 1st to Oct. 1st 
conveyance from station to Newgate by giving 
previous notice. 

The Bartlett Tower and Newgate can be visited 
Wednesdays and Saturdays, by parties of ten or 
more, for $1.00 from Hartford. Tickets sold to 
Newgate every week day by Mr. Bartlett, to 
parties of ten or more for 50cts. Parties of four 
at a slight additional cost without giving notice. 

Attractive illustrated lecture by the Rev. Duane N. 
Griffin of New Haven, on Newgate. Applications 
promptly attended to. and all questions cheerfully 
answered by the proprietor or the Rev. Duane N. Griffin. 
Extracts Feom Testimonials: 

I have twice heard and seen it. Am ready for it again 
upon the first opportunity. Crandall J. Nouth, V re- 
siding Elder, New Haven' District, 361 George St., New 
Haven, Ct. 

It is oertainly one of the mo-t interesting lectures to 
which 1 have ever listened. I advise ah my friends to hear 
this lecture at the very first opportunity. John Uhey 
Thomi-son, Pastor First M. E. < hurch, Meriden, Conn. 

Complete history by mail. 70cts Souvenir books, 25 
and 50 cents. For further particulars, address, 

S. D. VIETS, Prop., Topper Hill, Conn. 

Please mention The Connecticut Quarterly. 


E wish to call the attention of our friends and custom- 
ers, also as many of the general public as we can 
reach through this medium, who use illustrated printed 
matter, to the high class of work produced by our estab= 
lishment, in both letter-press work, wood, half-tone and line 

We can produce catalogues of any size and quantity, and 
with our facilities and experience we guarantee satisfactory results. 


We are General Printers 
and Engravers, and do not wish 
it understood that we print cata- 
logues only, as we are fitted up to 
do all kinds of flercantile 
and Insurance Printing, and 
a Bill Head, Circular or Announce- 
ment receives the same careful at- 
tention while in process, as larger 

We invite correspondence from manufacturers and others who 
wish for Fine Drawings, Engravings or Printing of any nature what- 
ever, and guarantee satisfaction in every instance, both as to price and 

quality Of produCtion.-Send for our catalogue. 
4@=-Correct Styles in Wedding Invitations. 

R. S. Peck St eo. 

14 Ford St., 
Hartford, Conn, 








The illustrations in this magazine 
were made by us. 


Many of the illustrations found in this issue are 
selected from the territory traversed by the Philadel- 
phia, Reading & New England Railroad. 

If you contemplate summering In the country you 
will find that for health, pleasure and convenience 
Litchfield County and the Southern Berkshire has 
no equal. 

For a list of hotels, boarding houses, etc., procure 
a copy of our summer home book, containing up* 
wards of 60 illustrations giving all Information. The 
summer home books are now ready for free distribu- 
tion at city ticket offices, of W. W, Jacobs, 293 Main 
St., and L. If. Colton, 18 State St., or will be mailed 
on receipt of 4 cents postage to 

Gen'l Passenger Agent, Hartford, Conn. 



Forty =f our 



of business, The Phoenix Mutual Life Insurance Company 
of Hartford, Connecticut, is Stronger, Safer and Better than 
ever before. 

Do not insure your life until you have seen our liberal 
contracts, embracing Extended Insurance, Loan, Cash and Paid-up 
values. The most liberal contracts issued by any life insurance com- 
pany in the world. For sample policies, address the Home Office, 

Hartford, Conn. 

Jonathan B. Bunce, President. 

John M. Holcombe, Vice-President. 

Charles H. Lawrence, Secretary. 

Please mention The Connecticut Quarterly. 


The Springs 

of Connecticut, 

Highland I ©^K^2\ Water. 

Has never failed to prove its value when used 
according to directions. 

Note this Comparative Analysis. 

Highland Tonica The Human Blood 

Contains in its natural state : in its natural state contains : 

Potassium, Lime, Potassium, Lime, 

Lime, Magnesia, Lime, Magnesia, 

Manganese, Manganese, 

Phosphoric Acid, Iron. Phosphoric Acid, Iron. 

A. W. K. NEWTON, M. D., says :— 

" I have advised it for a large number of my patients. The effect has 
been wonderful." 


Highland rC ^J^f\ Water. 

Is the purest ever analyzed. 


The Tonica Springs Co., 


T. SISSON & CO., Main St. 

Please mention The Connecticut Quarterly. 


The Life and Endowment Policies 



of Hartford, Conn. 

ftre the Best in the narket 

Non= Forfeitable and World=Wide. 


REGULAR LIFE.— The original and commonest sure way of leaving one's heirs in comfort 
- instead of destitute. Even a mechanic can easily leave a fair estate behind him. 

LIMITED=PAYMENT. — Concentrating payment into the working years of a man's life, and 
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REGULAR ENDOWMENTS.— -Payable to the insured himself after a term of years, or to 
his family if he dies before the end of the term. The only means by which most 
men can save money for themselves. 

ANNUITY PLAN. — Cheapest of all, and the only sure way of furnishing a regular income. 
Applied to either of the other forms. Principal sum payable in installments instead 
of in a lump, either to the insured (if Endowment) or his beneficiaries. If desired, 
they will be written so that in case of insured's death before the installments are all 
paid, his beneficiaries will receive the value of the remainder at once. 

COMBINED LIFE AND ACCIDENT.— Combining any of these with weekly indemnity for 
disabling accident. 

Also the Largest Accident Company In the World. 

LARGER than ALL OTHERS in America together. 

ASSETS, $17,664,000. SURPLUS, $2,472,000. 

Paid Policy-holders, over $27, 000, 000-$2, 151,000 in 1894 alone. 

RODNEY DENNIS, Secretary. 

J3usiness College 



This is the only school in Hartford which teaches Actual Business 
Practice from the Start, or learning to do by doing. The seventh 
school year, ending June 28th, shows the largest attendance and the 
most successful year in the history of the school. More graduates 
were placed in positions than by any other school in this State. 

Many improvements will be made in the Course and the School 
for the fall opening, Sept. 2d. Call or write for new catalogue, etc. 

30 Asylum St., HARTFORD, CONN. 

Tnrrj /ms^mw 





Parsons' Advertising Agency, 


Advertisements placed in any paper or combination of papers at publishers' rates or 
below them, and at a large reduction in Parsons' Special List, embracing leading dailies 
and 12 best weeklies in Connecticut. On this special list we challenge competition. 

No newspaper is worth so much to the general advertiser in proportion to its circula- 
tion as the well established country weekly. No other so effectively reaches the family, 
if so thoroughly read, or gives so much character to the advertisements in its columns. 
Our Special Weekly list is made up of the cream of these, the leading paper being 
selected in every instance, covering every important point in northern and central 
Corinecticut, and at a price never before even approached in Hartford. The lists may 
be used entire or in part. 

Papers always on file. Estimates for large or small amounts promptly furnished. 
Send for circular or, better, come and see us. 

Fifteen years Editor and Publisher 
Connecticut Farmer. 


Advertising Agent. 

R. S. Peck & Co., Printers, Hartford, Conn. 

Oct., Nov., Dec, 1895. 

50c. a Year Hartford, Conn. 15c. a Copy 

The 19th Century flarvel. 

The Secret of a Happy Home 

lies in providing something new and at- 
tractive to make it an everlasting pleasure. 

The Symphony™,! 

tor and entertainer for the whole family. 
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New York Parlors, Chicago, 111., 

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Philadelphia Pa., are daily Boston, Mass., 

1308 Chestnut St. in use. Oliver Ditson Co. 



One Opinion 

A prominent Boston publisher 
said recently: "Of all the ad- 
vertising journals printed (and 
I see them all), there is none 
which I enjoy reading so much 
as I do Profitable Advertising. 
It is, to my mind, the best one 
printed — the neatest, cleanest, 
most readable. I get valuable 
suggestions from it. It is worth 
many times its cost to me." 


is the advertisers' trade journal. 
The only one published in 
New England. 

Every publisher, agent and ad-writer should 
have his announcement in its columns. 
Every man who spends a dollar in advertising 
should subscribe for it. 
Subscription price $1.00 per year. 


Editor and Publisher 
Boston, Mass. 

School St. 

13 Sch( 



,0, 4> 

The Philadelphia, Reading and 
New England Railroad 

igSgy Western Travel. 

The train leaving Hartford at 12.30 p. M. makes direct connection at the west termini of the line, at 
Campbell Hall, with fast expresses on the Ontario and Western and Erie roads. Tickets via this route are 
sold at from $1.00 to $3.00 less than via other routes and passengers arrive at Chicago via this line the 

following day at 9 P. M., being only one night on 
the road. Pullman sleepers and reclining chair 
cars from Campbell Hall. 


The route starting at Hartford, runs due west 
to the Hudson River at Poughkeepsie, N. Y., at 
this point they cross the great Poughkeepsie 
Bridge, largest in the United States, thence 
through the celebrated fruit and farming section 
of Ulster and Orange counties for thirty miles to 
Campbell Hall, N. Y., where direct connections 
is made with fast through Express trains for the 
west. The region traveled abounds in the 
picturesque mountains, lakes and valleys. From 
the time the train leaves Hartford until the trav- 
elers change cars at the western termini two 
superb panoramas of varied beauty are unrolled 
on either side of the embarrassed traveler, who is thus afflicted with the unusual annoyance of having just 
twice as much as he can profitably enjoy. To those who have never traveled through Western Connecticut 
the railroad ride will prove very interesting. The Litchfield Hills and Southern Berkshire, through which 
the road passes, are noted for their picturesque beauty. 

For information, appfy to W. J. MARTIN, General Passenger Agent, Hartford, Conn. 



Mrs. Earle's Books on Old New England 

1 ^/©/^/©/©/^/©/S^/©/©/^'©/©/^^ ^^/g/©/©/®/©/®/©/®^ 


12 mo. $1.25. 
By Mrs. Alice Morse Earle. 

" It is interesting, entertaining, instructive." — Evan- 

"A graphic picture of the life of the Puritans."— Boston 

"A perfect mine of curious and interesting information. 
She has ransacked old records and chronicles with the 
richest results, and the picture she gives of old time ob- 
servances is the most complete ever written." — Boston 



12 mo. $1.25. 

By Mrs. Alice Morse Earle. "^ 

"Airs. Earle has made herself master of those archives (S> 

of Old New England. She devotes this volume to the (g) 

social side of the Puritan's life, picturing him from cradle %^ 

to grave. Her style is delightful, and every page is inter- S. 

esting."— The Critic. ^ 

"Mrs. Earle has presented with a loving enthusiasm > 

and a gentle and kindly humor the picture of the hard, sf 

harsh, and narrow life of our Puritan forefathers, en- ^ 

nobled by a sincere devotion and heroic self-sacrifice and (3> 

enlivened by quaint, if unconscious, humor, and the /^\ 

ebullitions of human nature." — Providence yournal. ix 



By Mrs. Alice Morse Earle. 
12 mo. $1.25 

j) "Aside from its usefulness the book is excellent reading." — New York Times. ,-j) 

D "A charmingly quaint account of our foremother's time." — Boston Times. ,^) 

j) " Lovers of old customs and costumes will find this book a treasury of delight. "New York Observer. : Q> 


153-157 Fifth Avenue, 




6, Beacon Street, Boston. 


Miss Traumerei. A Weimar Idyl. 2d Edition. $1.50. 
Uncle Sam's Church; His Creed, Bible, and Hymn-Book. 
5th Edition. Cover in red, white and blue ; or buff and 
blue. $0.50. 
Behind the Arras; A Book of the Unseen. With de- 
signs by T. B. Meteyard. Net, $1.50. 
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Vol. i 

October, November, December, 1895. 

No. 4. 

Frontispiece. " Autumn Morning." . 

From a painting by D. F. Wentworth. 

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Vol. l. October, November, December, 1895. No. 4. 


When the forefathers marked out their famous nine squares, with that in 
the middle set apart as a " public market-place; " they fixed the center of the 
life of the city of Elms. The Green has been called the heart of New Haven. 
In absence, the name calls up stirring memories ; on return, the sight of it 
stirs thrills of recognition. It is only a simple grassy square, surrounded and 
dotted by trees, divided by Temple street, crossed by many paths for the con- 
venience of busy people ; and enshrining three old churches. But the square 
has been there since Davenport and Eaton laid out the town in 1638 ; the trees 
have stood a hundred years ; and around the churches are entwined the his- 
toric associations of the colony and the city. 

The changes have been many. The alders and willows that over-hung 
pools of water, have gone; so, too, have the " market-house," the whipping- 
post, the buildings which one after another graced or disgraced its surface. 
The area is sixteen acres ; it is not exactly square, because the surveyor who 
measured it in the midst of primeval wildness, was unable to be strictly accu- 
rate, but to the eye this is not apparent. 

The surveyor was John Brockett, son of Sir John Brockett of Brockett's 
Hall, Herefordshire ; and perhaps a little inexactness may be understood, if we 



believe the tradition that he had left all in England and had crossed the sea in 
pursuit of a charming girl among the Puritan band. 

Around the Green were placed the houses of the leaders of the colony, 
which was the most opulent of those that left England ; and thus the Green 
has always been before the eyes of the citizens, and has been the short-cut 
from one " quarter " to another. It is itself a token that the colonists came, 
not to seek adventure or to avoid the restraints of civilized life, but with a 
definite purpose to found a state, with a city at its head, that they intended to 
be graced by order and beauty. May the good intentions of good men be 
always thus carried out. 

The building of the meeting-house, identified in New Haven so pre- 
eminently with the state, came foremost in their plans. The first Sabbath, 


' :> V;/ : ■.■■.■■■..■■■■■■- : ; ;';. 

From a Painting in the rooms of the New Haven Colony Historical Society. 

April 18, 1638, has been often described; and artists have been inspired by 
the chronicle to show us the spreading oak and the reverent company of Eng- 
lishmen, women and children, assembled there for the worship they had 
crossed the ocean to maintain. This oak, under which John Davenport, the 
favorite London minister, preached on the temptation in the wilderness, was 
near the present corner of George and College streets, but the first house of 
God was nearly as possible, in the center of the Green. This was in 1638, and 
on this historic spot have been placed the successive buildings of the church, so 
appropriately known as the " Center." Even more than in other colonies was 
this a fitting situation, for the founders made the law that " the Church Mem- 
bers only shall be free Burgesses ; and that they only shall chuse magistrates 
and officers among themselves to have the power of transacting all publique 
civil affairs of this plantation." 


1 / 

The "meeting-house" was a modest little shelter for sentiments like these. 
If was only fifty feet square, perfectly plain, with roof like a truncated pyramid, 
but on Sabbaths it must have been furnished nobly with keen intellect and high 
principle. We know all about the Sabbath then, the beating of the drum, the 
decorous walk through the Green to the meeting-house, the careful ranking of 
seats, the stationing of the guard to keep watch on lurking Indians. Those 
who go up now to worship may feel that they are literally following the foot- 
steps of the fathers. Through the Green was the special path allowed to the 
first pastor, John Davenport, so that he might walk on Sundays from his 
house to the pulpit in the complete seclusion befitting his dignity. Here, 
later, was the first school-house, a little back of the church, and alas ! in spite 
of all these privileges of religious and political liberty, before long a jail was 
necessary, that made a blot on the Green. The whipping-post was moved 
about until 1831, when it was exchanged for the less appalling sign-post for 
legal notices. And the public square was not too good in early days for a 
pound. The old almshouse stood on the northwest corner, near College street. 
For its convenience was a well of excellent water, and it is thought that it has 
never been filled up. 

In 1639, Xe-pau-puck, a persistent enemy, was beheaded here, and per- 
haps this ghastly yielding of savage ferocity to Anglo-Saxon law is the darkest 
picture the Green has offered. After the English custom, the burying-ground 
adjoined the church, and there were laid the wise and good, the young and old, 
of the infant settlement. Martha Townsend was the first woman buried in this 

fHE GKE£.V. 
Fro7n a Draw